


An Abandoned Quiche

by hellyeahawke



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Death, Depression, Fluff, Found Family, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Non-Verbal Frisk, Pacifist Route, Self-Harm, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:06:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellyeahawke/pseuds/hellyeahawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk is a monster. Or at least that's what they've been taught their entire lives by their abusive mother. Their father left when they were young and their mother hates them, making it very clear that she blames them for everything wrong in her life. But after events lead them to the Underground, where the real monsters live, they'll find that maybe being a monster isn't so bad. Maybe it's even better than being human. After all these monsters are a better family than their human one ever was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I just wasn't ready

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently been pulled into Undertale hell and as painful as it is I really like the hc that Frisk came from an abusive family and that they find a new family with the monsters in the Underground. I'm especially a sucker for older brother Sans!

Frisk is four years old when their father leaves. It’s family dinner night but he comes home late, smelling funny. He heads straight to the bedroom and starts packing. Frisk asks him what he’s doing but he just looks at them sadly and apologizes, though Frisk isn’t sure what he’s sorry for. When he leaves he doesn’t even bother with an excuse like in the movies; no “going to get cigarettes,” or anything like that. Instead he grabs his coat and his suitcase and walks through the front door. Frisk’s mom tries desperately to get him to stay, clinging to him and begging through her tears. He pushes her off with a muttered “I just wasn’t ready for the responsibility” and then he’s gone. Frisk’s mom locks herself in her room and cries for so long that the quiche in the oven burns. Frisk, alone and scared, eats it anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first chapters are super short. The chapters in Underground will be a lot more substantial. I think this might actually turn into something pretty long... Comments are really appreciated and I try to reply to all of them! Also if you notice any mistakes please let me know :)


	2. How can I help?

After their father leaves Frisk’s mother isn’t the same. She blames them, and Frisk can’t help but feel that she’s right about it being their fault. If Frisk hadn’t been born then their mom would still have her husband and she’d still be happy. But instead she’s alone and Frisk is nothing but a burden. They’re too small to do anything to really help but still they try, cleaning up the sour-smelling bottles that litter the floor, keeping their room tidy, even going around town asking for a job (they don’t really understand what that means, only that their mom keeps complaining about money and that jobs are where you get it.) 

Of course, nothing they do is ever enough. Frisk doesn’t understand why, but no matter what their mom is always mad at them. 

She’s even madder after she’s been drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, short... The next one will be a tiny bit longer but they won't get long until Frisk falls into the Underground.


	3. Not even human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are gonna get dark... note the tags

One night there are more of those empty, smelly bottles lying around Frisk's mom than ever before and she’s passed out on the dirty carpet. Frisk is confused and wants to help so they bring her some water and then start picking up the bottles. Her voice startles them, despite how quiet it is.

“Ugh… Why did I even have you? You’ve done nothing but make my life miserable…” Frisk doesn't understand and so they put down the waste bin they’ve been filling with bottles and try to hug her, but she pushes them away, hard. “Don’t touch me! You’re nothing but a burden, a mistake! You’re useless and disgusting.”

Frisk knows they aren’t supposed to cry. If they cry their mom will get angrier. She’ll say they’re manipulating her, trying to make her feel guilty. Frisk doesn’t know what “manipulating” means, but they know that they must be doing something wrong.

Still, they aren’t able to stop the tears that stream down their cheeks as they sit there, staring at their mother.

“What are you doing? Why are you crying?!”

Frisk doesn’t respond. They can’t respond even if they want to and their mom knows that, but still she presses them to talk.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Her voice is shrill and her hand is tight on Frisk’s wrist, “Are you stupid? You’re six now! It’s not normal for a six year old to not be able to talk!”

Frisk tries to speak but nothing comes out.

“Say something you freak!”

They try so hard. If they could only speak then they would finally have done something right. They would finally show their mom that they aren’t broken or useless. Frisk feels determination welling up inside them as they open their mouth, “Mm… mom…” It isn’t much, but it’s something, they said _something_. Frisk smiles up at their mom, hoping to see pride on her face, hoping that she might hug them, tell them that they’re a good kid. Instead they feel her hand, sudden and hard against their cheek.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That. You’re not my child. You’re a- a monster! A demon. You came here from the underworld to ruin my life!”

Frisk is silent again. Not even crying. They just sit there, stunned, as their mom looks at them with nothing but pure hatred.

“See! Look at you. That expressionless face… You’re not human!” She turns her face into her arm and Frisk can hear her muffled weeping. It feels like ages before her sobs shift to heavy breathing and Frisk knows she's passed out again.

They stand, grab the trash can, and finish picking up the bottles. Then Frisk walks back to their room and carefully shuts the door. They think they should be crying or screaming or at least feeling _something_ , but instead they’re completely numb, empty, _broken_.

_Not human._ _A monster._

They drift off staring at their bedroom wall, wondering how they ended up so wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is really appreciated!! And I want to note that I have not lived with abuse so if what I write is insensitive or anything please let me know!


	4. Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...

From that point on “Frisk” ceases to exist. They are “Monster” or “You.” They don’t even get whatever arbitrary gender she usually assigns them, instead they have simply become an “it.” A thing and nothing more.

Frisk is hurt, and scared, and most of all frustrated. They want to speak up and correct their mother, tell her she’s wrong, remind her what their name is. But all they can do is look at her and desperately shake their head.

Sometimes Frisk tugs on her sleeve to try to get her to look at them, hoping for any sign of affection. Their mother doesn’t like it when they touch her. She really doesn’t like it.

Soon they stop trying and they keep their head down. They think they must have done something to deserve this. They already know it’s their fault that their father left but their mother seems even angrier than before, so they must have done something else. They wish they could ask what’s wrong so they can fix it, but they haven’t been able to find their voice again. That sense of determination has left and now all they feel is empty.

They’re tired all of the time. Their mom tells them that she’s too busy to drive them and that paying for the school bus is “draining her pockets” so they now have to walk the three miles to school every morning. They’re pretty sure the bus was free.

They’re hungry all of the time. Their mom tells them that she’s not paying for their lunches anymore, that they’re too expensive. She tells them to take food from home but there never seems to be anything around besides eggs and canned beans.

When they try to complain she tells them that “monsters don’t need to eat,” that the hunger is just in their head. So they repeat that to themselves like a mantra as they walk back home every day after school with their stomach clenching painfully. Sometimes they think they might pass out. But as black spots start dancing across their vision and they start swaying on their feet, determination once again wells up inside them and they somehow make it home. They’re not sure where the determination comes from. They wonder why they haven’t given up yet.

In the evenings their mother isn’t home. Frisk takes that time to cook themselves something to eat, usually just eggs. They know that they aren’t supposed to, that they’re just wasting food since monsters don’t really need it, but the pain is too much and they don’t have the self-control to resist. Thankfully their mom doesn’t seem to notice that eggs are going missing. She’s never really home anyways.

Frisk hates it when their mother’s home. They hate that she calls them “it.” They hate that she won’t use their name. They hate that she’s always drunk. They hate that she’s always violent. They hate that they still love her and need her and that somehow this is all their fault and yet they’re too stupid to figure out what they’ve done.

Really, they just hate themselves.


	5. What Monsters Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made myself finish this before going to sleep and it's a bit longer than the last one.

They’re eight when their mom gets a new husband, a man they’ve never even met until the day she brings him home and announces that they’re married. Frisk doesn’t like him. His name is Walter but he keeps telling Frisk to call him “daddy.” He always wears a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he keeps kissing Frisk’s cheek, touching their arm, trying to get them to sit in his lap.

Frisk doesn’t like being touched.

They keep trying to tell him to stop. They gesture and make faces but he only laughs in a condescending way and tells them to use their words. He knows they can’t.

It makes Frisk angry. Frisk knows they aren’t supposed to get angry. Or sad. Or anything really. But still, they get so, so angry. Still though, they hold it inside, bottle it up. They’ve gotten so good at keeping their face blank, their emotions contained.

But they’re a monster, and monsters aren’t meant to be civilized. So one day they snap.

The day starts off normal, but there’s a hardness in their chest, a determination underlying everything they do. Even as they walk to school they feel it. It’s there as they make their way through the day. It grows stronger on their way home, making them forget all about the hunger gnawing at their stomach. As they prepare dinner they feel like their emotions are boiling along with the pasta water, ready to overflow. Their mom, already smelling of alcohol, doesn’t seem to notice. Frisk knows that if she had then she already would have punished them.

Just as dinner is finished cooking Walter returns from work. He hangs up his coat and walks over to Frisk, with his usual, sickly sweet smile plastered on his face. Frisk tries to make themselves look busy setting the table, hoping he’ll leave them alone, that he won’t touch them. But, like always, he leans down to kiss their cheek.

They feel disgust well up inside them.

The disgust turns to anger.

The anger turns to determination.

They pull their head away from him. Walter seems surprised but before he can respond they head-butt him in the face, as hard as they can. Walter screams and Frisk is seeing red, though they’re not sure if it’s from the rage pounding in their chest or the blood that is streaming ceaselessly from Walter’s injured nose. Either way, they feel good for the first time in as long as they can remember.

That is until their mom grabs the collar of their shirt and throws them across the floor. She’s screaming at them but Frisk can’t understand what she’s saying through the deafening thud of their own heart. She grabs them again and it takes a moment before they start to struggle, writhing in their mother’s grasp. But Frisk has always been small and their earlier determination has faded, leaving them scared and weak. Their mom drags them to the back door and throws it open.

And then they’re outside.

They get to their feet as quickly as they can and rush towards the door just as their mom slides it shut. There’s a certain finality to the click that echoes as the lock engages.

They bang on the door desperately, their breath coming too fast, making their head spin. They keep hitting the glass until their mom comes and slides the curtains shut with a look that makes it very clear they’re only making things worse.

Frisk falls to their knees, hyperventilating. The cold night air burns their lungs and throat and makes it even harder to get in enough oxygen. Their pajamas have been soaked through from sitting on the soggy earth and they can feel themselves shaking. Their fingers are tingling and numb, though whether that’s from the cold or the panic attack they aren’t sure.

_Stupid. So stupid._

They know they shouldn’t have given in to their emotions, it’s not allowed. Frisk just hates it so much when Walter touches them.

But their mom always says its fine, that he’s just showing affection; that he cares about them. She says that Frisk should be grateful anyone loves a monster.

Frisk thinks that maybe love, like food, is something monsters don’t need.

They know that’s not true.

They crave love more than anything. They want someone to hold them and tell them everything’s going to be okay. They want someone to take their hand and help guide them through the difficult days. They want someone to protect them. They don’t want Walter’s version of love; they want a mother.

But though monsters may need love, they don’t deserve it.

_Too broken._

Frisk curls up in the fetal position, trying to breathe, trying to get warm. They never got to eat the dinner they cooked and their stomach feels like its devouring itself.

They can’t help but wonder if they broke Walter’s nose.  A part of them hopes they did. That part of them is scary in its intensity. So they bottle it up, silence it. They won’t lose control of their emotions again; they’ll be quiet and blank and good, and maybe their mom will love them again. Even if they don’t deserve it.

So they make themselves breathe normally and they make their face blank. They lay perfectly still on the ground, not even letting themselves shiver, and that’s how they fall asleep.

When they wake up the door is still locked and the house is dark. They’re hungrier than they can ever remember being and now they’re painfully thirsty too. But they don’t cry and they don’t bang on the door. They just sit there and wait.

This is what they deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man I feel so bad for Frisk. It was actually hard to write this chapter...


	6. Left alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is terrible, I wrote it while extremely sleep deprived :/

It takes two days for their mom to let them back inside. Frisk is weak with hunger and dehydration by then, but they just silently stand and walk through the door, determination driving them. Their mom tells them to apologize to Walter. Frisk feels sick but their face betrays nothing as they bow their head and make themselves smaller, trying to show regret. Walter won’t even look at them as he tells them that they should be sorry. He tells them that they broke his nose.

Frisk almost smiles.

Walter doesn’t touch Frisk again. Instead he acts as if they don’t exist, only ever talking to their mother and never directly to them. Walter thinks he’s doing it to punish them, Frisk is just happy to have their personal space back.

Walter never really respected Frisk’s gender, but now he uses gendered words as much possible, always watching for their reaction. Every time he does Frisk’s stomach churns, but they refuse to let their feelings show. Their face is always blank, even as their emotions rage inside them; their determination is stronger than any pain. They are determined to not let Walter win, and more than that they’re determined to be good for their mother.

Frisk’s mom always hates it when they express emotions; that’s when she hits them the hardest. She says that their emotions are manipulative, that monsters don’t really have feelings so they’re pretending just to hurt her. Frisk thinks that maybe now that they aren’t showing their emotions their mother will be happier, that she’ll hate them less. That she’ll hurt them less.

Instead she just laughs as she hits them, saying that she was right about them all along. Frisk remembers the way her laughter used to sound before their father left. This laughter isn’t the same at all; it’s too hollow, too sharp. It makes Frisk’s heart hurt.

But as time goes by, both their mom and Walter seem to ignore Frisk more and more. Frisk guesses it’s because it's just not as satisfying to insult them and beat them when they don't react. 

With their passive demeanor added to their silence Frisk almost becomes a piece of furniture or a decoration. They kind of like it. As long as they don’t do anything to stand out they can get by on their own, pretty much unnoticed. Their mom only even really hits them now after she’s had too much to drink.

At some point Walter and their mom start coming home later. Then they start staying out for days on end. Frisk isn’t sure where they go, but they don’t really care though. They’re just relieved to be alone. They’re finally safe to do things besides clean and work on homework. Mostly they just read, afraid their mom will come home and catch them doing something wrong, but as they get more confident they start going for walks. At first it’s just around the neighborhood but soon they get the courage to venture into the woods at the base of the mountain, the one that overlooks their town. They’re kind of afraid to go any further, they’ve heard stories about that mountain after all, but the forest at the bottom is pretty and they feel safer there than they do in their house.

When their mom comes home she brings groceries, despite her insistence that they don’t need food. Frisk notes that she doesn't seem as angry as usual. She usually doesn’t acknowledge them at all, but sometimes... Sometimes she’ll stop and she'll ask them how their doing. Frisk knows that shouldn't make them as happy as it does.

At first Frisk is worried that she might ask about all the scrapes they’ve gotten from their walks in the woods and that they'll finally be caught. They keep applying the same dirty old Band-Aid to any fresh cut they get, but that’s the best they can do to hide them. Thankfully she never seems to notice. 

When she is there she always seems distracted by something, like she has some place to be. And Frisk figures she must, because after dropping off the food and feigning interest in Frisk’s life she’s gone again, and Frisk is alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it feels like the next chapter might be the last one before Frisk gets to the Underground... These last few chapters have been emotionally draining and I'm looking forward to writing something actually HAPPY for once!


	7. An Abandoned Quiche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Frisk seems unusual in their ability to save, load, and reset, otherwise Flowey wouldn't be so surprised and those other humans wouldn't have lost to Asgore (also Sans would probably mention if this had happened before). I wanted to explore that a bit in this chapter by making it so Frisk has these abilities even before reaching the Underground, but let me know if it's weird. This is the longest chapter yet :)

At some point Frisk notices the time between their mom’s visits is getting longer. They start to run out of food before she gets back with more. Frisk stops going to school and stops going on their walks; they’re always at home, waiting for their mom to come back. They lie to themselves, tell themselves that they’re just waiting for food, because the truth fills them with self-hatred.

_Miss her._

Their original relief at being alone is gone, leaving nothing but a sense of foreboding. It’s been a couple of weeks now since their mom last came home with groceries, but they’ve managed to make what little they have last. There are still eggs.

There are always eggs.

The school keeps calling. Frisk knows because they’ve started leaving voice mails. At first the messages are from the principal and are addressed to their mom, asking if Frisk is alright and if they will be coming back to school soon. Then the messages start addressing Frisk. It’s the school counselor now, telling them that they can call and talk if anything’s wrong. Frisk thinks that if the counselor really cared they’d know how impossible that is.

A part of Frisk wishes that they really could return the calls and tell the counselor everything. Not just about them being left alone now, but about the last six years since their father left. About the scars that they carry, not just on their skin but on their heart too.

Instead they unplug the phone.

A couple days later, while Frisk is scrounging in the cupboards for something to eat, someone knocks on the door. Frisk hates answering the door, but they feel determination well up inside them and they make themselves walk over and turn the handle. They hope it’s their mom coming home again with more food. They really need more food.

Instead it’s a woman with a clipboard and clothes that are too fancy for where she’s standing. The woman seems surprised, and after looking Frisk over she gets this horrible concerned expression on her face. It looks too much like pity to be comforting.

“Hi, you must be Frisk. My name is Sonya and I’m from Child Protective Services,” Frisk’s heart clenches, “Your school called us. They’re concerned about you.”

Frisk feels anxiety churning their stomach, but they don’t respond, their face as blank as ever. That seems to make the woman, Sonya, uncomfortable, and she coughs to fill the silence. Frisk feels bad and thinks maybe they should smile, but their face seems to have forgotten how. They wait for her to continue.

“So Frisk, are your parents inside?”

Frisk shakes their head.

“May I come in?”

Frisk shakes their head again. Sonya seems unsure what to do for a moment, but then she bends down to get closer to Frisk’s eye level. She does it to be reassuring but it just makes Frisk feel smaller.

Her voice is soft when she speaks again, “Hey, if there’s something wrong and you can’t tell me for any reason just nod your head, okay?” Frisk desperately wants to, they can feel the muscles in their neck straining. But they remain perfectly still, betraying nothing.

_Can’t help._

Sonya purses her lips and then stands up straight again. She seems frustrated for a moment, but then she sighs and reaches her hand out towards Frisk. Instinctively they take a step back, though their face remains emotionless. Sonya’s brows knit in concern and she pulls her hand away. Then she carefully bends and places something on the floor in front of Frisk.

“It’s my business card. If anything’s wrong or you ever feel unsafe you can just call the number on the back.”

Frisk glances at it and they clench their hands at their sides, again forcing themselves to remain still.

They don’t deserve help.

Sonya sighs once more, and then she turns and leaves. Once she’s gone the tension drains from Frisk’s body all at once and they collapse on the floor, shaking. They look down at the card one last time before standing and closing the door behind them. They lean against the door once they’re inside, and they’re suddenly painfully aware of how empty their house is.

Days pass after the visit from Sonya and their mom still doesn’t return. Frisk is finally completely out of food and they have no money to buy more. They keep telling themselves that they’ll wait one more day. Every day they think “just one more day.” They wait and wait, determination keeping the front door closed and the phone unplugged.

And then the days turn to weeks and they realize they’ve waited too long to do anything; they’re too weak to move now. They’re curled up on the carpet by the phone wishing they had the strength to get up, to grab Sonya’s card, to plug in the phone, to do _anything_. They search for their usual determination, but all they feel is hunger. All they want to do is sleep, so they close their eyes, welcoming the darkness.

And then…

Frisk is scrounging in the cupboards for something to eat and someone knocks on the door. Frisk hates answering the door, but they feel determination well up inside them and…

_What?_

They’ve been here before. They know this.

They freeze and look around them, but everything looks the same. They’re still hungry, but it’s nothing compared to what they were feeling a couple of seconds ago.

They suddenly feel dizzy, disconnected from reality. Their hands are shaking.

Another knock on the door.

Frisk snaps back to themselves, though they’re still dazed. They walk over to the door but they don’t open it, instead peering out of the window to try and see who it is. Their heart jumps into their throat when they recognize the woman outside; Sonya.

They slide down onto the floor, face buried in their knees and arms wrapped around themselves. When they hear the knock again they move their hands to cover their ears. They rock slightly as they wait for Sonya to leave. It feels like years but finally the knocking stops and with a quick glance outside they see that she’s gone. They’re not sure if they’re relieved.

Frisk sits there for a while, terrified and confused. Eventually their stomach growls and they remember their hunger. The ache in their stomach is so familiar that they start to panic, staggering to their feet and rushing to the kitchen. They know that there can’t be anything in there, they’ve been out of food for weeks, but when they open the fridge there is a carton of eggs and some cheese sitting there, just like the first time Sonya came by.

Some sort of frenzy overcomes Frisk and they frantically pull everything out of the fridge, including a very old roll of premade dough. They grab a bowl from the cupboard and turn on the oven. They start mixing ingredients, sometimes so violently that eggy batter sloshes onto the floor. They cut their finger while grating the cheese, and after rinsing off the blood they pull their old, barely sticky Band-Aid off of a now healed cut on their knee and wrap it around their finger. Then they go back to wildly stirring the batter before finally pouring it into the crust and sticking it in the oven.

Afterwards they stand there, panting, unsure of what to do with themselves. They’ve just used all of the food they had left in one go and they start to realize how stupid that is. Memories of laying on the floor, too weak to move and knowing they’re not going to get better, flash through their mind. They feel themselves start to panic again but they stamp it down with determination. Somehow they’ve gotten another chance, and this time they’re not going to just sit and wait. They know their mom’s not coming.

Maybe they’ve always known.

They sit on the floor by their cooking food and wait for it to finish. At some point, despite the heat of the oven, they start to shiver. They look around and notice that their house isn’t just cold, it’s dark too. They glance at the timer.

_10 minutes._

They stand and walk to their bedroom. They rub their arms for warmth as they stand and look at all of their possessions. They don’t have much, just a few dusty toys and some books, but it fills them with a strange sense of nostalgia. They take a deep, shuddering breath, and strengthen their resolve. They walk to their dresser and search through the drawers until they find their favorite sweater; the blue one with the pink stripes. It was their father’s and so it’s huge on them, more like a dress than anything, but it’s cozy and warm. They pull it over their head, automatically feeling safer, and bury their face in the fabric.

The sweater fills them with determination.

They stand like that, just breathing in the smell of the fabric, until the timer in the kitchen goes off. They walk out of their room, pausing briefly to glance back one last time. It feels very final.

Frisk turns the oven off and pulls on mitts. They open the oven door and they close their eyes as the smell makes them feel like they’re four years old again. They pull the pan out of the oven and place it on the counter.

It’s small and it’s sort of lumpy, but it’s most decidedly a quiche. Frisk allows themselves a soft smile, unfamiliar on their face.

They’re still hungry, but they leave the pastry untouched. They find a piece of paper and a pen and they write a note, though they’re not sure who it’s meant for.

_You just weren’t ready for the responsibility._

It feels like they should have a bag of some kind, items to carry with them, but the only thing they have left is this quiche and they can’t bring themselves to take it.

Frisk opens the front door and steps outside. They take a deep breath of crisp air and they feel a heavy sadness in their heart. They know this should be easier, that they shouldn’t regret doing this, but that thought does nothing to lighten the weight in their chest.

They take a step, and then another. They circle around the tall fence surrounding their back yard and stop at the edge of the woods. Their gaze follows the mountain to where it fades into hazy clouds. Then they step into the tree line.

They’re not sure where they’re going, all they know is that there are hundreds of stories about kids vanishing on Mount Ebbot. They have nowhere to go, and disappearing sounds so much better than starving to death. Frisk knows deep down that that’s what happened before their strange reset. It happened because they were helpless and alone, too weak to make a decision for themselves.

They may be alone now, but they don’t feel helpless. And this, disappearing, this is their choice.

So they grab a branch that’s too small to use as a walking stick but is big enough to make them feel braver, and then they start off up the mountain.

It was already getting dark when they set off and soon its pitch black. The trees groan in the wind and they can hear animals scurrying in the underbrush. Their surprised by their lack of fear, but they’re not stupid and they know that it would be best to stop for the night.

Just as they think that they notice a cave up ahead. Their legs burn but they push themselves towards the opening in the rock face. They glance inside, but unsurprisingly they can see nothing but darkness. The cave seems small at first but it’s actually kind of the perfect height for them.

Frisk takes a couple of steps into the tunnel, feeling their way along. They glance over their shoulder and are confused when they can’t see the opening they came through. They think maybe the forest is just too dark for them to make anything out, but something feels off. They don’t turn back though, instead they keep moving further into the cave.

Eventually they start to notice a strange light up ahead and then a giant cavern opens before them. In the center is a ring of yellow flowers that give off a faint, golden glow, illuminating the smooth walls of the cave. There’s something familiar about them. Frisk can’t quite put their finger on what. 

There's a hole in the center of the circle. They stand at the edge, unable to make out much in the dim light, but something tells them it's a long way down. Frisk squats and brushes their hand along the ground until they find a small stone; they remember hearing somewhere that counting how long a stone takes to hit the bottom tells you how deep something is. They drop the rock down into the darkness.

They wait.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5…_

Frisk stops counting at 30. They never hear the stone hit the bottom. They feel something like anticipation as they straighten, still staring into the darkness below. The circle of flowers, the warm light, even the pit stretching open before them, there’s something comforting about them all.

_Disappear._

Frisk turns their back on the hole and closes their eyes.

They cross their arms over their chest and their grip tightens on the stick they’ve been carrying.

They take a deep breath that fills them with determination.

And then they’re falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know this chapter was kind of rough, but next chapter Frisk will finally be in the Underground and will meet Toriel!! Yay for actual happy stuff (I promise). Also, I wanted to say that I really appreciate all the comments and kudos! Thank you guys so much :D


	8. Friendliness Pellets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I really like the theory that Chara possesses Frisk no matter what, but I also don't think they're inherently evil. I like the idea of Chara being the flavor text during the pacifist run, and that they're actually affected by Frisk's initial actions and feelings, going either towards light or dark. And after everything I've made Frisk suffer I really couldn't bring myself to put them through the horror of having someone trying to control their body and force them to kill people... So yay for friendly, supportive, complicated Chara. Also Toriel!!

**_Wake up._ **

_What… Who?_

Frisk wakes to feel softness all around them. They’re confused, but have no delusions that they’re in their own bed. This is too comfortable after all.

Wherever they are its warm, and it smells like honeysuckle. They wonder, briefly, if they’re in heaven, but they quickly shake the thought from their mind. Monsters don’t go to heaven. No, monsters go to hell.

But this place seems too quiet and soothing to be hell.

_So where?_

They feel like it would be easy to drift off again, but their curiosity wins out and they sit up and look around. The room they’re in looks a lot like the cavern they wandered into earlier, but they don’t have to look around much to realize it’s not the same.

For one, there are small crystals lining the walls and ceiling, giving off a soft light. Also there’s clearly no pit in the center, because that’s where they’re currently sitting. They look down and see that the softness they woke to is a patch of yellow flowers that are very much like the ones from before. These, however, are not glowing. They do smell nice though.

_Pebble. Flowers. Oh. No sound, makes sense now. But… how far?_

They look up at the ceiling and try to make out where they could have fallen through. It’s hard to make out anything, even with the crystals it’s still pretty dark, but finally they notice a dot of light directly above them. It stands out because it’s yellow rather than white-blue like the soft glow that surrounds them and they think it must be the light from the flowers up above. It’s small enough that they think they could even be imagining it.

They really fell a long way.

Frisk is only ten and so they’re no scientist, but they’re pretty sure that falling that far doesn’t usually end well. And yet somehow they’re alive. They’re surprised by how relieved they are.

Cautiously they get to their feet, using the stick they’re somehow still holding for support. The lights all seem to be right above them and so the edges of the space all fade to black, leaving them in a sort of spot light. They feel like they’re being watched.

From what Frisk can tell, the flowers are only growing in a small patch right where they fell; just the right size to cushion a child’s fall. They step further into the darkness and spin slowly, trying to make out more details of the room around them, but they really can’t see anything. They’re about to give up when they notice a slightly darker patch on one side of the room. It’s too perfectly rectangular to be just another shadow.

They look around one last time and then head towards the opening.

They find themselves in a large hallway and they make their way down it, holding their stick out in front of them so they don’t accidentally walk into any walls. Before Frisk reaches the end though, a large doorway appears on their left. It’s hard to tell in the gloom but it looks like there may be some sort of design up at the top.

_Not just a cave?_

They hesitate for a moment before finally stepping through. This room too has lights in the ceiling, illuminating the center where Frisk can see one lone yellow flower sitting in a patch of grass. It’s hard to tell from where they’re standing, but it looks like the flower is… smiling? It unsettles them, but they can’t think of anywhere to go but straight ahead, so they keep walking towards it.

As they get closer they see that the flower is indeed smiling at them, and once they’re a couple of feet away it speaks.

“Howdy!”

Its voice is friendly and high, reminding Frisk of a cartoon character from their childhood. But despite the cheerfulness of its voice, something about the flower sets them on edge.

“I’m Flowey the Flower!”

_Seriously?_

“You’re new to the Underground, aren’t cha?”

It keeps talking, but Frisk is too focused on watching its face for anything that’ll give away the source of their unease. They think maybe they should keep going, but their mom always told them to listen when spoken to. So they wait, hoping that their apprehension is only because of how bizarre the whole situation is and not because they’re in danger.

“Oh gosh, you must be so confused! I know things sure are different down here… But don’t worry, little ol’ Flowey will show you how to get by!”

Frisk starts paying attention again at that, their sense of disquiet growing.

“Hehe! Here we go!”

Suddenly Frisk notices a light coming from their chest, red but not threatening. It’s warm and familiar though they know they’ve never seen it before, and when they look down they’re stunned to see a small red heart floating just in front of their sternum.

Flowey seems unsurprised, and for a moment Frisk thinks they see something dark behind its smile, “That there’s your soul; the very essence of your being! I know it seems small and fragile, but don’t worry, it can get stronger! And down here we monsters gain our strength through LOVE!”

_Monsters. Love. No that’s… That’s wrong…_

Frisk feels like they’re floating away from themselves.

**_Stop. You need to focus._ **

That voice again, the one that woke them. They get the urge to look around to find the source, but something tells them that they won’t see anything. It’s kind of scary, but at least it helped bring them back to themselves.

“Oh golly, you don’t have any love do you?”

Frisk’s freezes but they mentally shake themselves. _It can’t know._

“Well, until you find some on your own, I’ll share some LOVE with you!” The flower winks, and Frisk thinks they really should be more freaked out than they are, “Now just hold still,” small white puffs appear out of nowhere, spinning in the air around Flowey, “You see, down here we share love through what I like to call ‘friendliness pellets.’ Ya know, because they’re shared between friends!”  It laughs, but Frisk doesn’t get what’s so funny.

“Gosh, isn’t this exciting? Are you ready for some LOVE?”

Frisk doesn’t respond but their first thought is that yes, they want love more than anything.

“Alright, now catch at many as you can!”

But not from this flower.

As the “friendliness pellets” move towards them, Frisk covers their soul and steps nimbly out of the way.

**_Huh, clever._ **

The white flakes vanish into the gloom and Frisk looks up to see Flowey’s expression has shifted; its eyes are narrowed at them and its smile looks more like a sneer, “Hey buddy, you missed them…” there’s a hardness to its tone now that makes Frisk take a step back. They don’t make it far before they hit what seems to be an invisible wall. They look back at Flowey but keep their face blank, refusing to show the fear that’s crawling its way up their throat.

“Haha, well, let’s try again!” Flowey is still attempting to keep its voice friendly, but they can hear the anger underneath. Frisk has gotten very good at reading a situation for danger. After all, that’s how they survived all those years with their mother’s rage.

So when more flakes appear and start honing in on them, somewhat faster than before, they have no hesitation about moving out of the way. Flowey’s expression changes even more, no longer hiding its irritation, “Are you stupid? I said. Run. Into. The. Bullets.” Its eyes widen and it pauses for a moment after realizing what it’s said. Then it pulls on a strained smile and looks back at Frisk, “Haha… The friendliness pellets...”

Flowey summons more without warning and they move in much faster than before. Frisk once again dodges them easily, though dread squeezes their heart as they wonder how Flowey will react. They slowly look up and the expression on Flowey’s face sends chills down their spine. The flower is smiling still, but now it’s twisted and hollow.

When Flowey speaks again its voice is different, discordant and harsh, “You know what’s going on here, don’t you?” Frisk isn’t sure what it means, only that they had known they couldn’t trust the flower, “You’re just toying with me, you sick degenerate.”

And then its face stretches, forming into a warped skeleton grin, and it laughs. More of the white pellets appear, but this time they surround Frisk. The bullets, Frisk knows now that that’s what they are, start closing in, right at level with their heart.

Frisk is panicking, but there’s nowhere to run, no way out of the invisible barrier that’s keeping them trapped.

_Going to die…_

Then, suddenly, the pellets are gone.

Flowey’s horrible leer disappears, replaced by confusion. Frisk watches as a small flame flickers to life next to Flowey. They’re not sure where it’s coming from, but from Flowey’s expression Frisk guesses that the flower’s not the one creating the fire.

Flowey doesn’t seem to notice until the ball of flame is already hurtling towards it. It barely registers the danger before it’s knocked to the ground, its stem snapping.

Frisk is overcome with relief but they don’t relax for long. They’re still unable to move past the unseen cage and they’re all too aware that something is out there, something powerful enough to defeat Flowey in one hit.

There’s a moment like a held breath before whatever created the fire steps into view.

Frisk isn’t sure what they were expecting, but a giant fluffy woman in a purple dress definitely didn’t come to mind.

**_Mom…_ **

“Oh, what a terrible creature! Trying to harm an innocent child… Unbelievable,” her voice is warm, comforting in its gentleness. Her expression is kind, and although Frisk has a hard time letting go of their suspicion, they feel as though they can trust her.

**_You can._ **

The new voice they’ve been hearing is strange, soft but insistent. It makes their head feel full, but not painfully so. Actually, it makes Frisk feel safer, as though someone has their back. So they choose to listen.

They lower their arms away from their soul and look up at the giant woman in front of them.

“You must be so scared, my child, but you’re safe now. My name is Toriel. I am the caretaker of these ruins. I often come through here to see if any poor soul has fallen down, but there haven’t been any humans in a long time and so I’m afraid I’ve grown inconsistent in my visits. It is lucky that I made my rounds today, but I wish I’d come earlier so you wouldn’t have had to face that horrible flower!”

What Toriel says raises a lot question in Frisk’s mind, but they have no way of asking them. And even if they did, they know not to speak out of turn.

Besides, there’s something soothing about listening to Toriel speak; she sounds the way Frisk always imagined a mother should.

Or maybe she sounds the way the strange voice in their mind thinks a mother should.

Frisk isn’t sure how they feel about that, so they ignore the thought and focus on Toriel again.

“If you wish, I can guide you through the catacombs. But it is your decision whether or not you want to come with me.”

Frisk doesn’t really have to think about it, they just nod. Maybe they’re being stupid or naïve, but they want to trust Toriel. They also really don’t want to stay in this room. Frisk is done sitting around and waiting, and they didn’t come this far to die in these ruins the way they died on their living room floor.

Toriel smiles kindly and then turns and walks towards an archway in the far wall. Frisk steps forward, half afraid that they’ll still be unable to move, but whatever had been keeping them trapped has vanished.

Before they follow Toriel through the opening they look around one last time, expecting to see a wilted or burned flower nearby. Their stomach drops when they can’t find Flowey anywhere.

_Oh no… Not dead._

The thought fills them with self-loathing, but they get an impression of what feels like support come from the presence in their mind. With determination, Frisk balls their fists at their sides and hurries after Toriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably didn't do as good of an editing job on this as I should have (editing is a PAIN) so please let me know if you notice any mistakes or even just parts that don't flow well. I don't know how soon I'll be able to post the next chapter since this week is Thanksgiving and my family and best friend are coming to visit so I'll be really busy (good busy though), but I'll try to get it up as soon as possible!


	9. Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case you didn't notice in the last chapter, I'm not exactly following the in-game dialogue. I'm doing this both because I know how tedious it can be to read the same text over and over again, and because it's a pain in the ass to watch a play-through super slowly in order to get everything right. I'm trying to keep all the dialogue in character, but please let me know if you think something is off!

The moment that it takes Frisk to cross the room is enough to fill them with doubt; not that Toriel wishes them harm, but rather that maybe she’s abandoned them. Maybe she sees what they are, what their own mother always saw, and she’s decided they aren’t worth her kindness. They start to move faster, practically breaking into a run to get into the next room, panic rising in their chest.

But when they pass through the archway Toriel’s there. Her face breaks into a genuine smile when she sees them and Frisk wants to smile back. Frisk almost smiles back. Frisk doesn’t smile back.

Toriel looks concerned for a moment, but then her smile’s there again, no less sincere than before, “I’m glad you decided to follow, child. Now there’s something I must explain to you. You see, here in these ruins there are many puzzles that must be solved in order to move forward,” she pauses and Frisk thinks she’s waiting for a response. Frisk nods in acknowledgement and Toriel continues, “Well, these puzzles are much too dangerous for a small child! But you need not be frightened, I will guide you through.”

They normally would have been annoyed at being referred to as a small child, but Frisk is too overwhelmed by the fact that someone is trying to protect them to even notice.

There’s a warm feeling in their chest that is unfamiliar but not unpleasant. Actually, it’s kind of nice. They wonder if this could be what happiness feel like.

The door on the other side of the small room is closed and so they think about what Toriel said and look around for a puzzle. They notice six pressure plates to the right and Frisk watches as Toriel carefully steps on only four of them, leaving the middle ones untouched. The door opens and, with a small gesture for them to follow, Toriel steps through.

Frisk doesn’t hesitate to follow this time.

They know now that Toriel will still be waiting, but that doesn’t stop relief from welling up inside them when they see her standing there. They’re confused though when they see that the other door is already open and sitting next to it is some kind of training dummy.

Toriel walks them over to it. She’s smiling, but there’s a sadness behind it that makes Frisk’s heart ache, “Child I must tell you something, and please do not be frightened. Down here in the underground monsters will likely attack you,” Frisk knows Toriel told them not to be afraid, but they can feel the familiar anxiety rising.

**_Calm down, idiot._ **

Despite the insult the voice is kind. Frisk takes a deep breath and waits for Toriel to finish.

“Most won’t actually wish you harm, but they will feel an obligation to try,” Frisk grips their branch tighter. Toriel must notice because she quickly continues, “You need not fight back, child. Just talk to them and before you know it I’ll be there to protect you!”

_Protect me. Wants to protect me._

**_Yeah, weird feeling right? Confused me at first too._ **

“Now, my child, why don’t you practice on this dummy? Initiate a fight with them and then, instead of fighting, talk to them. Can you do that?”

They’re not sure they can; they can’t talk and they don’t know how to trigger a fight, but they’re afraid to disappoint Toriel so they nod anyways. As they get closer they feel something shift and the rest of the room fades away, leaving them face to face with the dummy.

**_Fight. Act. Mercy. Alright idiot, what do you wanna do?_ **

_Um… Act?_

**_You choose to talk to the dummy. Ugh, boring. But whatever I’m not judging._ **

Frisk opens their mouth and nothing comes out. They stand there for a moment, mouth opening and closing, before deciding that there are better ways to communicate than gaping like a fish. They pause before waving at the dummy and making a sign that they think means “peace.” The dummy doesn’t respond.

**_Well, it doesn’t seem much for conversation. What a shocker._ **

They think maybe they’ve done something wrong, but then everything comes back into focus and the room looks normal again. They glance at Toriel who is standing in the doorway, beaming.

**_She seems proud._ **

That nice, warm feeling is back again.

They follow Toriel into the next room where she turns to them again, “There’s another puzzle in this room and I think maybe it would be good for you to solve this one. Would you like to try?”

**_We can do it._ **

Frisk nods, and they can feel themselves smile just slightly. It still feels wrong on their face, but it’s nice. They walk along the room, looking for some kind of clue, though they’re not sure what. They reach a small hallway when suddenly the room fades out again. It’s just like it was before with the dummy, only now there is some kind of large froglike creature before them instead.

**_Froggit attacks!_** Frisk isn’t sure how a voice in their head can manage to sound so dramatic, but somehow it does. **_Fight? Come on idiot, choose fight…_**

**_God you’re boring. Well what do you want to do? Threaten? Compliment it?_** There’s humor in the voice now, but Frisk thinks that those aren’t bad ideas.

_Uh… Compliment._ Frisk gestures at the Froggit and then tries to make arm and hand movements that express that they think it’s cute. It looks confused.

**_Haha, oh boy… I don’t think Froggit understood what you said but hey, it seems flattered._ **

Then Toriel’s there, glaring down at Froggit with disapproval. Frisk is glad that she isn’t looking at them like that. The frog creature looks cowed as it slinks out of sight, returning the room to normal once again. Toriel smiles and keeps walking.

Frisk scans the walls, still looking for a clue, and finally spots a plaque in the middle of the hall. It reads: “ _The wester room is the eastern room’s blueprint._ ”

They walk back to the last room which they think is the western one, though they can’t be sure considering they’re underground, and look around. They don’t notice anything unique about it besides the dark purple path on the ground though. They walk over to the eastern room to see that it’s just a floor covered in spikes. The spikes don’t look particularly sharp, but they’re definitely too tall for Frisk to step over, and there’s no way around.

Then an idea strikes them.

_The path. Same. Have to walk._

**_Ya know, you’re not half as dumb as you look._ **

It’s backhanded, but it’s kind of a compliment, and it’s the only one Frisk can ever remember getting. Well, besides the remarks from Walter about how cute they are, how pretty, how handsome... Frisk doesn’t want to count those.

Frisk has a good memory, something that has usually done more harm than good; leaving them replaying years of mistakes and insults over again in their mind as they try to sleep, but now, finally, it seems to be useful. They don’t even need to go back to the other room because the path is still painted clearly in their mind. So they take a deep breath and step forward as confidently as they can.

They haven’t even taken the first step on puzzle before Toriel stops them with a worried expression, “Child wait!” Frisk pauses, confused, “I know I said that you should try to solve this one, but I think perhaps the puzzles are still too dangerous for now.”

Frisk doesn’t realize how much they want to impress her until she asks them to stop. They had solved the puzzle and they were going to show Toriel that they were good, worthy of her protection. Now they can’t prove themselves to her.

And yet the reason she isn’t allowing them to solve it is because she still wants to keep them safe.

Frisk really isn’t used to this.

Somehow, out of all the scary and strange things Frisk has encountered since falling down here, Toriel’s kindness is the most surprising.

“Here child, take my hand,” Toriel extends her soft looking paw for Frisk. She does it slowly enough that they don’t flinch, for which they are incredibly grateful; they don’t want to insult Toriel and give her a reason to abandon them.

Still though, they hesitate. In all of their life they can’t remember a time when someone touched them in a kind way, let alone in a motherly one. This is something they have dreamed of for years; a caring person taking their hand and guiding them. They still remember sitting curled up in a corner after a bad day at school, holding their own hand and pretending it was their mother comforting them and protecting them.

More than anything they want to take Toriel’s hand.

_Don’t deserve it._

**_Take her hand, idiot. You may be boring and a crybaby, but you do deserve this. Okay?_ **

The encouragement from the voice fills them with determination.

They reach out cautiously and take Toriel’s giant paw in their own tiny hand. When they look up at her, they see that her face has broken out into a smile so warm that it makes them wonder how they ever could have thought of refusing. Frisk feels like crying, but instead they try for a smile of their own. They know it’s small and pathetic, but still, it feels good. They think that maybe it’s even starting to come a little more naturally.

Toriel turns, leading them carefully across the floor of spikes. Frisk notices distantly that they were right about the puzzle, but they don’t really care anymore. All they can think about is how nice it feels to have a warm hand holding theirs with nothing but gentleness.

Despite the fact that they have never had anyone treat them like this, there is some strange sense of familiarity to the hand wrapped around their own. It takes them a moment before they realize that the feeling is coming from the presence in their mind. They think about questioning the presence, but it speaks before they have a chance.

**_You know I have a name, right? I’m not just “voice” or “presence.”_ **

_Hmph… Not just “idiot.”_

**_Haha, you got me there! Who knew the idiot had an attitude…_ **

Frisk pointedly doesn’t respond.

**_Ugh, fine. Frisk._ **

_So, name?_

There’s a pause and Frisk thinks that maybe they won’t respond.

_Don’t have to-_

**_Chara. My name’s Chara._** Their voice is quiet when they answer, much more serious than usual. Frisk isn’t sure why that is, but they don’t pry. They know what it’s like to have a past that is better left untouched. So Frisk also doesn’t ask why Toriel is familiar to them and why they knew Frisk could trust her.

And then Chara is quiet again, leaving Frisk in comfortable silence as they cling to Toriel’s warm paw for the rest of the way across the puzzle.

Frisk feels their stomach drop in disappointment when they enter the next room and Toriel lets go of their hand.

_Didn’t really want to touch you. Just for convenience. Just to cross._

Their disappointment deepens, tinged with a familiar uncertainty.

Then it turns to flat out panic when Toriel speaks again, “I have a difficult request for you, child. I need you to cross this room on your own. I’m sorry,” and then she’s gone.

Frisk’s short legs have no chance at keeping up with the giant woman, but that doesn’t stop them from trying. They’re having flashbacks to days spent waiting for their mother, hungry and cold, and they’re having a hard time breathing. They hate themselves for how attached they’ve gotten to this strange woman so quickly.

As their panic grows, so does their self-loathing. They start to think that maybe it really will be better if Toriel is gone when they reach the end of the room; they can’t keep burdening her, making her protect them when they don’t even deserve it.

_She’ll get hurt. Because of you. Always you._

They wonder if maybe they should stop and go back, hide until she gets fed up with them and leaves them behind. It’s inevitable anyways. When she discovers what they really are she’ll leave them like everyone has, so they should make it less painful by letting her go now. But they aren’t strong enough to turn back. They need Toriel. She makes them feel protected, cared for, almost like they’re worth something. So they keep walking until they reach the end of the long room.

When they get there though, she’s gone.

_No…_

Frisk’s hands are shaking. They think they’re going to collapse.

_Didn’t want to be right._

They look around frantically, hoping that they somehow just didn’t see her. They feel tears forming in their eyes.

_Stop it! Can’t be sad. Better like this, don’t deserve her._

They take a shuddering breath and start towards to entrance to the next room. They hear a shuffling sound and prepare themselves for the strange shift in focus that comes with a battle, but instead it’s Toriel that appears from the shadows.

**_Humans are evil, Frisk, but monsters are different. They’re kind. Toriel is kind._ **

As Toriel frets over them, Frisk thinks about Chara’s words. Chara makes it seem as though monsters are good; better than humans, but that goes against everything Frisk’s mother has always told them. She always said that Frisk deserved pain because they are a monster, but if monsters are good than that means they shouldn’t be punished. Maybe, Frisk thinks, they are an exception; the one evil monster. Or maybe Frisk really is a human and that’s why they’re so horrible. There’s no way they can be associated to sweet, caring Toriel, so they must be something else. They must be some kind of mistake.

**_It’s true Frisk, we’re not monsters; we’re not good enough to be monsters. But we’re not human either. We are better than those awful creatures._ **

_Then… what?_

**_That’s for us to decide. We choose who we become. Hopefully you can do a better job than I did._ **

There’s a sense of sorrow to Chara’s words, but again Frisk doesn’t pry into their past. They think that Chara will tell them when they’re ready, if they’re ready.

Toriel’s kind voice draws them out of their head, “Oh child, please do not be afraid. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you like that, but it was important; I had to test your independence. You see, I have to run some errands and so I must leave you on your own for just a little while,” it makes perfect sense and really it’s something that should have posed no challenge at all. It just goes to show how broken Frisk is. They couldn’t even do a task as simple as being alone for one minute, without breaking down.

“I’ll be back soon, so just wait here. Can you do that?”

Frisk wants to protest, but they can’t think of a good reason for why Toriel should stay with them. So they stay quiet.

“Don’t worry, if you need to get in touch with me you can simply call me with this,” Frisk looks down and is surprised to see a cellphone in Toriel’s outstretched hand. They suppose it makes sense though, even monsters need to communicate somehow.

They’ve barely had any of their own possessions before, let alone a cellphone, and they’re not used to getting gifts. They know this is purely for practicality, but still they feel warmth flare in their heart as they take it from her.

Toriel smiles and gently places her hand on Frisk’s cheek. Before Toriel they have never been touched like this; with love and kindness. They feel a sob catch in their throat. They wonder what it would be like to hug her, but they’re not confident enough to try.

Before they can build themselves up Toriel turns, and with a friendly wave, disappears through the archway into the next room.

Frisk sits down on the floor and leans against the pillar that Toriel had been hiding behind. They’re not sure what to do besides wait. They open their phone and look through it to see if maybe there are some games they can play, but there’s nothing.

They decide to call her.

The phone is already ringing when they realize how stupid that was; it’s not like they can say anything.

They’re about to hang up when they hear a click and then Toriel’s voice, “Hello my child, are you alright?”

Frisk manages to make a soft noise that they hope reassures her.

“Ah, good! Now what were you calling about?”

_Oh no._

There’s a pause and Frisk imagines Toriel on the other end waiting patiently.

“You just wanted to say hello?”

Frisk is grateful for Toriel’s attempt to help them. They give a low murmur of assent.

“Well then, hello! I hope that’s satisfactory!” Frisk can hear the smile in her voice and it comforts them, “Goodbye, child. Call me again if you need anything or just want to talk!”

Frisk calls a couple more times, always waiting a few minutes in between because they’re afraid of annoying her, and each time Toriel starts a topic and speaks so they don’t have to. No one’s ever made the effort to accommodate them before, not even their own mother who had ten years to get used to their silence.

Eventually though, Toriel seems to run out of things to talk about, though she doesn’t get frustrated with them. She’s still cheerful but Frisk doesn’t want to keep bothering her, so they just sit and wait with the phone tucked in their pocket.

They don’t have anything to do, so they think. They think about the life they left behind that feels so distant that it seems impossible that it was only a day ago. They think about how afraid they were all the time. They think about their mother and Walter. They think about their father and burnt quiche.

And they think about Toriel; how kind she is and how safe she makes them feel.

The way she treats them is exactly what they had always wished for from their mother.

**_Mom…_ **

_Mom?_

They feel their hand reach for the phone and they’re not entirely sure if they’re the one moving it. They notice, distantly, that their hands are shaking, though they don’t feel afraid.

They press the phone to their ear. It rings once, twice…

“Hello? Is everything okay?”

Determination wells up inside them, and they think that it’s more than just their own. It feels as though there’s a resolve flowing over from Chara, giving them the strength to do something they haven’t been able to do for years.

Frisk opens their mouth, ““Mm… mom…” their voice is weak and raspy from disuse, but it’s still theirs.

They have a momentary flashback to the last time they spoke, years ago. In that moment they had also said this same word, but the feeling in their chest had been so completely opposite to how they feel now. In their mind they see their mother’s disgust and fear, hear her harsh words. They wonder how Toriel will react. They’re unsure of themselves, but they know she won’t scream at them or call them names.

“Oh…” Toriel’s voice is heavy, but Frisk can’t quite put their finger on the emotion underlying it.

_Grief_.Frisk realizes. _It’s grief._

When Toriel speaks again her throat sounds raw like she’s trying not to cry, “If… If it makes you happy to call me… mom, I think I would be quite okay with that,” she almost sounds hopeful, though Frisk feels arrogant just assuming something like that.

They realize that Toriel is waiting for some kind of response and so they manage to find the strength to speak once again, their voice slightly more assured than before, “Mom.”

They hear Toriel attempt to hide a sob and then she’s back, keeping her tone as steady as possible, “Very well, my child,” she pauses and then speaks again, almost rushed, “If you need anything you know how to reach me!” and then she hangs up.

This time her sudden departure doesn’t hurt Frisk. They feel lighter and happier than they ever have before. They notice, distantly, that the happiness isn’t just their own; it seems to be combined with Chara’s. But they know the feeling is genuine, and somehow sharing it with someone makes it even more powerful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took longer than I have before to upload this one, but hopefully the length makes up for it. I won't be able to post the next chapter until some time next week, so please be patient! I hope you like this chapter!! And again, if you notice any mistakes just let me know :)


	10. Cinnamon Butterscotch Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter! Things have been kinda hectic lately and I've just gotten involved with an awesome Undertale voice project!! It's thevoiceofundertale.tumblr.com and you should check it out because there are tons of amazingly talented people :) I am currently doing the voice of Asriel for them and it's super fun and an amazing experience!

Frisk waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Toriel doesn’t return.

They’re not sure how long they’ve been sitting there with their back against the pillar, but this is starting to feel too familiar. They think about calling Toriel again, but they don’t want to bother her.

So still they wait.

**_You know, she wouldn’t get mad if we went looking for her._ **

_No. Have to wait._

**_Oh come on, stop being such a baby._ **

Frisk ignores Chara and wraps their arms tightly around their legs. They don’t want to disappoint Toriel, or even worse; make her angry, so they sit like that until their legs go numb and their back starts to hurt.

They can wait. They’re used to waiting.

Their stomach rumbles.

A distant fear nags at them but still they sit there.

It starts to hurt a little bit and they can feel their panic growing, but they keep waiting.

Then the hunger really starts to gnaw at them, impossible to ignore.

It’s terrifyingly familiar.

They stumble to their feet, suddenly aware of how dizzy they are.

_No. Nonononono… Can’t. Not again._

**_Hey-_ **

Frisk looks around frantically, shaking.

**_Hey, calm down!_ **

_Can’t. Not again. It hurts. Alone hurts. Hunger hurts. Dying h-_

**_Frisk…_ **

_Please... Not again._

A pause, then- **_Come on idiot, let’s go look for Toriel. And maybe we’ll even find some food._**

Frisk’s hesitates, but the emptiness in their stomach urges them through the door. They’re scared of disappointing Toriel, but their memories; laying on the floor, weak and aching, are so much more terrifying.

As soon as they’re in the next room, their phone rings. They fumble to pick it up.

“Hello? Are you alright? I am sorry I am not back yet, this is taking more time than I expected, but it should not be much longer now! I just wanted to make sure you had not left the room,” Frisk looks around guiltily, “There are more puzzles up ahead that I have yet to explain and I do not want you to get hurt. Well, goodbye for now, dear one.”

Frisk thinks about turning back, but they realize that they can’t. No matter what, they can’t sit and wait through their hunger again. They know, logically, that Toriel’s not the same as their mother, but the memory is still too fresh to shake from their mind.

**_Let’s keep moving._ **

This new room is filled with piles of bright red leaves.

They bring another, better, memory to the surface of Frisk’s mind.

_They’re very young; their father is still there. Frisk is holding both their parents’ hands and they’re being swung above a huge heap of multicolored leaves. They are giggling as they’re dropped into the pile, leaves floating up around them…_

Frisk steps towards the closest bunch of leaves. They drop to their knees, and the chorus of crinkles is so familiar it makes their heart ache. They close their eyes.

The crisp leaves beneath them and the sudden memory fill Frisk with determination.

Then they’re on their feet again.

The room leads down to a hallway, but they decide to look around a little first. There’s a dark opening right next to them and so they cautiously go through, wary of any possible traps.

Instead all they find is a bowl of candy on a small stand. They can’t remember the last time they had candy.

Their stomach growls and they don’t bother to read the note on the front of the bowl before reaching in to grab a handful.

**_The note says to take_ one _, Frisk._**

They loosen their grip and let all but one piece of candy fall back into the bowl.

They start to open it, their hands shaking as they pull at the wrapper, but Chara stops them.

**_I’d save that for later if I were you. You never know when you’ll need it._ **

Frisk isn’t sure how much a piece of candy will help them in the future, but they listen anyways, shoving it into their pocket.

They glance longingly at the candy bowl one last time before moving on. They walk back through the room with the leaves and down the hall to the next.

Once again their phone rings.

“Hello my child. I had a question for you. If you had to choose, which would you say you prefer; cinnamon or butterscotch?”

The question is odd and Frisk has to think for a moment. They’re unsure if they’ve ever actually had butterscotch.

**_Cinnamon._ **

“Cin-cinna…” Frisk can’t finish the word, but still they feel proud; they’ve somehow managed to speak twice in one day.

“Excellent! Thank you, dear one,” Toriel hangs up and Frisk keeps walking.

As they walk through the room, they are approached by a few different monsters who attempt to fight them. Thankfully though, none of them really seem to really want to hurt Frisk and it doesn’t take much to get them to stop attacking. Chara keeps urging them to fight back, but Frisk can tell they don’t really want to hurt anyone either.

When they’re halfway through the room, their phone rings again.

“I am sorry child, but I had another question. I know what your preference is, but you do not dislike butterscotch, do you?”

Frisk isn’t sure how to answer, and can only wonder what butterscotch tastes like.

**_It’s good. Really good._ **

**_And it tastes nice with cinnamon…_ **

Frisk makes a noise into the phone that they hope is encouraging.

“Thank you, child, I am glad to hear it! And thank you for waiting so patiently for me.”

It’s nice to have Toriel calling them on the phone, even if it’s only to ask questions that Frisk doesn’t really understand. Knowing that Toriel is still there and thinking about them strengthens their determination as they continue through the room.

At the other side they can see a hallway, but there’s a wall of spikes blocking their path. Thankfully the puzzle to open the way is pretty easy; just a pressure plate and a conveniently placed rock to slide onto it. After pushing it with all the strength they can muster, which frankly isn’t very impressive, they hear a click and the spikes are gone. They dust off their hands and keep moving.

Toriel calls them once again right as they are about to pass into the next room, “Hello, dear one. I just wanted to make sure that you do not possess any allergies.”

They can’t manage to get their voice back again, speaking twice already being too much for them, but they try as best they can to convey that they’re not allergic to anything that they know of.

Thankfully Toriel seems to get the message, “Ah, I understand. I will see you soon, my child.”

Frisk’s smile, although almost imperceptible, is back as they step into the next room.

They don’t notice the puzzle in the new room right away and so they almost have a heart attack when they take a step and fall through the floor to another room underneath. They get up, dazed but uninjured, and look around.

Frisk is sitting on a pile of red leaves, and there are more patches around them, all oddly rectangular. The only other thing they can see is a sign on one of the walls. They walk over and squint to read it; “Don’t Step on the Leaves.”

They return to where they fell, careful to do as the sign says, and look up. They can see the hole but it’s too far to reach. They’re not sure how to get out of the room, but then they round a corner and see a doorway. They walk through and somehow come out up top again, though there were no stairs or even a noticeable incline.

It’s not the strangest thing to happen to them since falling down here, so they just shrug it off and cautiously walk back to where the ground gave out on them.

This time they notice that the floor is discolored right where they fell. The hall they walked down is normal, but as soon as it turns a corner the floor is different. The image of the room below surfaces in Frisk’s mind; the leaves had also started as the room had turned a corner. They remember the sign too and how when they had fallen it had been onto a pile of leaves.

They close their eyes for a moment, seeing the blueprint of the other room clearly. Then they start walking, hoping that their theory is correct.

Frisk reaches the other hallway with no problems, and it leaves them feeling oddly proud. They remember their mother’s insults to them, about how stupid and worthless they are, and they hold their head up a little higher; they solved the puzzle on their own.

_Good for something._

There’s a moment of silence and Frisk swears they can hear Chara thinking of something to say. For a moment it seems like they might even say something kind or reassuring, but then-

**_Well, you did solve that rather briskly, didn’t you? Or should I say… Friskly?_ **

Frisk is completely taken aback and giggles, actually giggles, at Chara’s pun. In their head, they can hear Chara laughing too.

**_Would you look at that! The idiot has a sense of humor after all._ **

_Love puns. Also. Hate puns._

**_Yeah, but that’s what makes ‘em so good. They’re just so infuriatingly funny!_ **

Frisk nods, wearing a small smile that is slowly becoming more at home on their face.

**_Oh man, I used to tell puns to Asr-_ **

Chara stops mid-word and Frisk can sense pain rolling off of them, but Frisk pretends like they don’t notice and continues onwards.

They make their way through room after room of puzzles, the unfamiliar feeling of pride growing every time they solve one. They’re getting better at fighting the monsters too, dodging faster and taking less damage to their soul every time.

Which is good, because getting hit in the soul really hurts. Each blow makes them feel weaker, and in more ways than just physically. Chara, despite urging Frisk to fight back, gives them subtle, and often funny, hints about what will make the monsters stop fighting.

It almost makes Frisk feel like they have a friend.

They start to discover strange things hidden in the ruins, things that Chara seems unsurprised by but which are absolutely confounding to Frisk. Like a rock that moves and talks, or a piece of cheese stuck to a table in the middle of a hallway with a mouse hole nearby. The sheer absurdity of it all fills Frisk with determination.

Another room is filled with spider webs that are covered in baked goods, and, despite the sign implying that the pastries and drinks are made from real spiders, Frisk’s mouth waters.

**_You can put money in the webs._ **

_Huh?_

**_The gold coins the monsters have been dropping; put some in the web. It’s only seven for a donut._ **

Frisk tilts their head and then counts out seven coins, placing them carefully underneath one of the sweets. A spider crawls down and detaches the donut from the web and Frisk hesitantly grabs it. They look in their pockets and see they have enough for a couple more and some of the cider too. They excitedly fill their pockets and as they leave they pull out one of the treats, unbelievably grateful to finally have food.

But once again, Chara stops them.

**_Seriously, you should hang onto those._ **

It’s difficult, but Frisk manages to put the donut away, stomach rumbling in protest.

They sigh and move on.

As they continue through the ruins, they become more and more unsure of themselves. They think that perhaps they’ve missed something and that they’re getting further from Toriel rather than closer to her.

But then Frisk enters a small room and the Froggit sitting in there tells them that Toriel just came through carrying groceries. Frisk immediately perks up at the idea of food.

They walk past the Froggit into the next room, thinking that perhaps that was the direction Toriel went, but the space is tiny and drops off into an intimidating backdrop of old, crumbling buildings. The only thing of note is a toy knife laying on the ground.

**_Pick it up. It’ll do more damage than your stick… If you ever wise up and actually fight back…_ **

Frisk doesn’t want to hurt anything, and doesn’t think they ever will, but for some reason they pick it up anyways. Chara seems pleased.

They keep going but they’re starting to get weak with hunger and they’re not sure how well they’ll be able to dodge if any more enemies attack. They wonder how much farther it is and consider just sitting down and waiting, but determination forces them onwards.

They pass through another doorway and are met by the sight of a giant black tree, its blood-red leaves piled on the ground around it. Their phone rings and they reach to answer, but stop as they see Toriel step into view. She looks up in surprise when she hears their phone and for a moment Frisk is terrified that she will be angry with them for leaving the room. They steel themselves and prepare for the worst, but Toriel just smiles and comes to stand in front of them.

“Hello my child,” she leans down a little closer and inspects them with a look of concern, “Oh goodness! Are you hurt? I am so sorry dear one, I never should have left you all alone. Whoever hurt you is going to get a very serious talking to…” then she straightens and reaches for their hand. Somehow, after Frisk takes it, they feel a hundred times safer, “Now come with me, I have a surprise for you!”

Frisk allows themselves to be pulled along through the large passageway to the front of a small cottage. Once they’re at the door, Toriel releases their hand and smiles down at them, “Whenever you are ready my child,” and then she steps inside.

Frisk stares up at the house for a moment. Even from the outside there’s something… welcoming about it. It fills them with determination.

They step inside and are met with a warm yellow light and the smell of food; like cinnamon and something buttery and sweet.

Frisk feels like they might cry.

Toriel stands in the center of the homey little entryway with her hands clasped in front of her, “I apologize for taking so long dear one but, you see, I was baking a pie to celebrate your arrival. Normally I would make one with snails, but I thought this special occasion warranted something sweet.”

Frisks stomach rumbles loudly and they feel their face heat.

Toriel smiles warmly at them and reaches for their hand again, “The pie is still too hot to eat, I am afraid, but until then, I have another surprise for you!”

Frisk allows themselves to be lead off down a small hallway to the right. Toriel stops them in front of one of three doors and gently places her hand on the top of their head. Frisk’s first instinct is to flinch away, but Toriel’s palm is warm and soft against their hair, and there’s nothing but kindness in her gesture.

“This is your room, my child. You should go in and make yourself at home; get some rest. Do not worry, when you wake, the pie will still be here and so will I. Now go on,” Toriel moves her hand to lightly press their back in reassurance and Frisk hesitantly turns the knob and enters the room. They glance over their shoulder one last time to see Toriel give them an encouraging nod, and then they close the door behind them.

As soon as they step inside the room, Frisk feels Chara falter.

**_Oh…_ **

_Chara?_

But there’s no answer.

The room, like their first encounter with Toriel, strikes them with a strange sense of familiarity, and they can’t help but wonder about who their strange passenger really is. Still though, they refuse to prod.

Instead Frisk starts to explore the space a little. There’s more stuff here than there was in their room back home, but still not much. An empty picture frame sits on the dresser and there’s a small box filled with children’s shoes of varying sizes. There’s a lamp in the same corner as the shoes, and a chest of drawers against the wall. After examining these things briefly, they walk over to the bed. It looks a little dusty, but more comfortable than any they’ve seen. They hope it’s as soft as it looks.

Just as they’re about to try it out, they notice a small box down at the foot of the bed out of the corner of their eye. They lean down and open it to find that it’s filled with old toys. Somehow, despite the fact that they were covered, they’re dustier than everything else in the room.

**_They don’t interest you._ **

Chara’s voice sounds strained, like they’re trying too hard to sound indifferent.

Frisk leans down and picks up one of the toys, turning it over. There seems to be a name written on the bottom of it, but before they can read it there’s a surge of pain behind their eyes and they drop it back in the box.

**_I said. They. Don’t. Interest. You._ **

The pain is gone as quickly as it came, but they can sense that Chara’s still hurting, although in another, unfamiliar way. They want to help, to comfort them, but instead they just softly close the box and step back into the center of the room.

Standing there, nothing else to distract them, Frisk is suddenly hit by how incredibly exhausted they are. They hesitate, but then walk over and switch off the lamp. A low music starts to play as the room goes dark, and it sooths something deep within them.

They haphazardly kick off their shoes, and then climb under the covers. They find that the bed really is as soft as it looked.

Before they know it, they’ve drifted off.

They sleep so deeply that they don’t even notice as Toriel steps into the room and quietly places a plate, adorned with a perfect slice of pie, in the center of the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the best chapter... Sorry... Hopefully the next one will be better. You'll get some Toriel and Frisk adorableness (and angst because I'm trash) and possibly even meet Sans...


	11. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this turned into one hell of a long chapter (and a super fluffy one too)... Also, now that Frisk is in the Underground and multiple possible timelines are already stretching out, they now get to have nightmares. Yay... Anyways, please enjoy, and for the full experience I recommend listening to this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsoLYWTzqSY at least for the parts with Toriel :D And guess what... SANS!!

_They dream of fear and violence, dust on their hands and empty ruins stretching around them with nothing left to feel but determination._

_They dream of a toy knife gripped painfully tightly and Toriel’s face as they… As they…_

Frisk wakes up, unsure of where they are for a moment.

They’re unsettled from some kind of dream, but it quickly fades into the back of their mind and they relax.

The room is quiet around them. They’re used to waking up to silence, but this time it’s so much less lonely, less oppressive. They actually feel… _safe_.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been asleep for; it’s decidedly hard to measure the passing of time given the lack of windows or, well, sunlight for that matter, but with the way sleep still clings to them they guess it’s been more than just a quick nap.

They really don’t want to leave the warm cocoon of their blanket, but thinking about being around Toriel and her gentle kindness makes them sit up and swing their legs over the side of the bed. They pull on their shoes and stand, stretching. As they walk towards the door, they almost don’t see what’s laying on the floor. Thankfully, they manage to side step before their foot is planted directly into it. Once they’ve regained their balance, they inspect it in the dim light. It looks like…

_Pie?_

**_It’s cinnamon butterscotch._ **

They’re oddly happy to find the voice still there after waking up.

**_Pshhh… Just pick up the pie, you nerd._ **

Frisk smiles and bends down to pick up the plate. They walk over and flip the switch on the lamp, bathing the room in light, then they go and sit down on the edge of the bed.

Their hands shake a little as they lift the pastry from the platter. They can’t remember the last time anyone made them food, let alone left it for them to wake up to. Their stomach rumbles, taunting them with that too-familiar hunger, but this time they aren’t alone and starving. This time they’re sitting in the house of an incredibly kind woman, with food just inches from their mouth.

Their cheeks feel wet as they bring the pie towards their lips.

**_Ya know, you might wanna save-_ **

Before Chara can finish, they bite into the slice with purpose, ignoring Chara’s huff of annoyance. Instantly, their mouth is flooded with incredible flavor.

It’s like nothing they’ve ever tasted before in their life, in all the best possible ways. They’re not sure when the last time was that they had something sweet, and there’s something freeing about sitting in bed and eating dessert for breakfast.

Their mom would never have approved of something like this…

Frisk ignores that thought, unwilling to darken the moment. They finish off the pie, savoring every last bite and even licking the plate and their fingers after.

This is the most they’ve eaten in one sitting in a long time and so their stomach almost hurts from being stretched so much. They don’t really mind though, they’re just glad to have food.

There’s nothing keeping them in the room now, and so they make their way to the door. They’re hesitant, anxious about interacting with Toriel, and so they linger with their hand around the knob.

They can feel Chara getting impatient.

**_Oh my god! Just go, idiot!_ **

They feel their hand move and then the door’s open. They know that the gesture wasn’t entirely of their own volition, and they narrow their eyes and cross their arms.

_Was going._ They try to make their tone as scolding as possible, though even to them it just sounds pouty.

**_Yeah well, not fast enough…_** Chara has the decency to at least try to sound a little apologetic.

**_Now come on, I’m sure Mom’s waiting._ **

Frisk steps cautiously into the warmly lit hall and finds no one in sight. They can hear a fire crackling from another room and what sounds like soft humming in the same direction. They almost start towards it, but their feet feel frozen to the ground; they can’t bring themselves to go and join Toriel quite yet.

They struggle to come up with a diversion that’ll keep them busy, a reason to not go to that other room yet, and decide upon exploring. They turn the opposite direction of the noise and start down the hall.

They decide to start at the end and then work their way back, so they walk until the hall stops. There are tons of plants lining the walls, and at the end there’s a mirror on one side, mounted just low enough for them to look into. They used to actively avoid looking at themselves in the mirror at home, and so the person staring back at them seems almost unfamiliar. They try smiling, but it feels forced, and their reflection looks strained.

Something else about the reflection bothers them; the dark hair and skin, the shape of their face, it’s too much like their mother. For a moment, as they stare at the glass, they only see their mother staring out at them.

They start to panic.

**_Frisk, it’s you._ **

The reflection changes again and their mother’s hateful face is gone. Looking closer at themselves they wonder how they ever could have made that mistake. They smile again, and this time it’s actually genuine. The look of such a kind and soft expression on their face shatters any last bit of resemblance to their mother and it fills them with determination.

They turn back down the hall, stopping at one door only to find it locked. There’s a sign hung up that says the room is closed for renovations, though Frisk wonders what kind of renovations and who could possibly be doing them. They decide not to question it and keep walking.

Frisk comes to another door and tries to handle. It swings open with ease and they step inside, closing it lightly behind them. They’re met with a room slightly bigger than the one where they’d slept, one that’s also much more lived in. They realize that this must be Toriel’s room.

They know they should immediately turn around and leave, and yet their feet carry them farther in.

**_Really? Hmm… Didn’t take you for a snooper._ **

_Not snooping. Just exploring._

**_Whatever floats your boat, nerd._ **

They walk around the room and take in everything that gives the space personality. There’s a bed on one side of the room. It’s ridiculously large and covered in mismatched pillows that they immediately want to pick up and examine. They manage to restrain themselves however, and continue to look around.

They walk over to the dresser and pull open the top drawer, unsure what they’ll find inside.

**_A sock drawer! How scandalous…_ **

Frisk realizes that opening a random dresser drawer was probably not a good idea and they’re immensely glad to have only found socks. This small error in judgement doesn’t stop them from continuing their exploration though.

They look around Toriel’s desk and find a journal open with one entry circled. They don’t mean to read it, really they don’t, but their eye catches and before they know it they’re laughing at the joke that was scrawled on the paper. They can hear Chara giggling too. They step back from the desk and bump into a chair, almost knocking it, and themselves, over. As they scoot it back into place, Chara offers commentary.

**_Toriel’s chair. It’s named Chairiel._ **

Frisk snorts, and warmth seems to radiate from Chara at Frisk’s reaction. They realize that Chara’s _happy_. They smile to themselves and head back towards the door.

They stop on the way though, noticing a cactus in the corner. They suddenly get this irrational desire to touch it. They know that it’s dangerous, but with all the needles is just looks fuzzy. Their curiosity overwhelms them and they approach the cactus with a hand outstretched.

Right as they’re about to touch it their hand just sort of stops. They can feel Chara forcibly holding them back. They’re annoyed for a moment, and then they look down at their hand and at the millions of needles covering the cactus and they realize how stupid they were about to be. The needles still look so inviting, but now they know how bad it would be to touch them. They can’t help but think that the cactus is putting up defenses but secretly wants to be loved, after all why else would it look so soft yet be so prickly?

**_The cactus, truly the most tsundere of plants._ **

Frisk giggles, surprised by Chara’s comment.

_Wow. Nerd._

**_Pshhh, shut up Asr-_ **

Chara cuts off immediately and then goes silent. The joking atmosphere has vanished completely and Frisk feels suddenly very alone.

They frown and then push the door open, stepping back into the hall.

They have no excuses left for not going to Toriel, so they make their way down the corridor, stalling as much as possible by searching drawers or examining plants. Passing the door to their room reminds them that they could always go back in and pretend they’re still asleep. But the thought of lying to Toriel makes their heart hurt. They walk past their room, and through the entry way, where they notice a set of stairs that they somehow know they should not descend. They pause briefly, heart hammering, but then, with unsteady legs, they continue on and into a cozy living area.

By a crackling fireplace, Toriel sits reading quietly in a giant cushioned chair that really is more cushion than chair.

They stand uncertainly in the doorway, not wanting to disturb her, but then Toriel looks up and her face breaks into a radiant smile.

“Oh hello, my child! I am glad to see you awake. Are you well?” she sets her book down next to her and folds her hands in her lap, her expression patient and kind.

Frisk nods meekly and then slowly approaches Toriel. They want to tell her much they loved her pie, how much it meant to them on so many levels, but they don’t have the words. Instead they just gesture at the book Toriel was reading and try to make their expression inquisitive. Thankfully she seems to understand.

“What book am I reading?” she lifts it and turns the cover to face them. It has a picture of a snail on the front, “Well, this is one of my favorites: 72 Interesting Snail Facts for the Curious Monster!”

Frisk tilts their head, unsure what could be so interesting about snails, but they think that Toriel must have good taste. They’re actually a little curious.

“Oh, I suppose these facts don’t just have to be for curious monsters! I am sure any curious human is free to know them too.” her tone sounds almost… teasing, though there is no cruelty behind it, only gentle humor. Frisk smiles, and the way Toriel’s own grin widens in response warms their heart.

Toriel opens the book to a page where Frisk can see a small, snail shaped bookmark peeking over the edge, “Fact number 46: Snails change their shells yearly. Or at least renovate their old one; possibly expanding the kitchen or tearing up the carpet. It is very expensive.”

Frisk giggles and Toriel looks immensely pleased.

“Would you care to hear more, my child?”

They nod vigorously and wait for Toriel to continue, but instead she holds out her hand to them.

“Dear one, would you like to sit on my lap as I read?”

Frisk is momentarily stunned, unsure if they want to. Already in the last day they’ve had their hand held and their hair mussed, and they’ve even been hugged. This is more love than they’ve gotten in the last 6 years combined from their own mother. They’re so unused to this kindness and physical contact, and they both crave more and almost fear it. After all, it’ll be taken away sooner or later.

But they imagine Toriel’s fluffy arms around them, safe and motherly, and they take her hand and allow themselves to be pulled up onto her soft lap. Toriel lifts the book in front of them both, cocooning Frisk in her embrace. They hesitate, but then lean into Toriel’s warmth. They listen to her lilting voice as she reads more of what Frisk is pretty sure are not actual facts, and they start to get drowsy again.

They’re curled up against her chest, half asleep, when they feel Toriel shift and they realize she’s shut the book. She places it carefully off to one side, and then wraps her arms around Frisk. They suddenly feel very small, but not in a bad way. Hope bubbles in their chest that Toriel won’t let them go.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she strokes their hair and speaks softly. Her voice is filled with conflicting emotions, and she sounds on the verge of tears. They can detect happiness but also that same grief that they heard before when they called her mom, “You know, I always wanted to be a teacher… I- I never really got the chance.” they don’t know why, but her words fill them with sadness.

They’re surprised to feel tears hit their cheek, and they glance up to see Toriel looking at them with a sad smile. She opens her mouth to say something else, but then seems to think better of it, lifting a hand to wipe away her tears. Frisk looks at her inquisitively, wanting to ask if she’s okay, to comfort her.

“I am alright, dear one. It is just so very nice to have a child around again. Especially one as sweet as you!” she boops Frisk on the nose. They giggle, but then their light expression melts into frown and they wrap their arms as far around Toriel as they can, burying their face into her chest. Toriel lets out a little noise of surprise, but then hugs them tighter.

A feeling washes over Frisk that they can’t name, but it’s nice; warm and safe. It seems like they’ve been missing this feeling their whole life, but that doesn’t make any sense… How can they miss something they’ve never experienced?

Frisk doesn’t care. They just want to hold onto it for as long as possible; to hold onto Toriel for as long as possible. So they sit there, held in Toriel’s lap as she hums softly and strokes their hair.

**_Mom…_ **

In the back of their mind, they think they can almost hear Chara crying.

 

____________________________________

 

The next few days pass much the same; waking up at what they imagine is the same time to go out to the living room and have Toriel read to them from different books. Sometimes they sit in the huge, comfy recliner with Toriel’s arms holding them close, and sometimes they pull up too-tall chairs at the dining table and listen as Toriel enthusiastically explains algebra and geometry.

Frisk never thought of school as fun, but Toriel really is a good teacher, patient and calm, and they find themselves enjoying their daily lessons more and more.

School had become a distant thing back on the surface, a hazy passage of time that really only served the purpose of protecting them from going home. They had been getting good grades, but they were always told how they were a bad kid; not speaking up, falling asleep, getting involved in fights. Though they were usually defending someone or being attacked for how different they were, and though they refused to throw punches, the teachers always blamed them. The faculty didn’t like Frisk after all. And Frisk decidedly did not like the faculty.

But Toriel is so very different. She makes them feel smart and good, praising them for their achievements. Frisk feels arrogant in thinking it, but it almost seems like Toriel actually likes them, that she’s proud of them. Sometimes they even allow themselves that thought and the warmth it brings.

They continue to try to speak, though they can manage only one word a day at most. That word is usually “mom.”

It seems to make both Toriel and Chara happy, and so it makes Frisk happy, and soon it actually starts to feel natural slipping from their lips.

When they’re not having lessons, Toriel will take them with her to the kitchen and let them help her cook. Cooking with Toriel, making pies and such, is very different from what they had to do back on the surface. Here they actually get to play around and try new things, and more than that they actually get to cook _with_ someone. They never could have imagined how much fun that would be.

They remember watching kid’s shows and how there would always be a moment where a mother and child would cook together. Those scenes always left Frisk feeling very alone.

But as they cook with Toriel, they find a smile taking up permanent residence on their face. They almost feel like they’re in one of those old cartoons, but this is so much better; this is real.

Frisk is a pretty good cook, they have to be after providing themselves with food for 6 years, and so they pick up Toriel’s recipes pretty quickly. Toriel almost seems impressed, and it fills Frisk with joy when they see the expression on her face as they show off their experience.

Frisk has been here for five days, and even with their new recurring nightmares, they’re happier than they’ve ever been. It’s almost enough to drown out their old bad thoughts.

Almost.

_Don’t deserve this._

_Going to hurt her._

_Should leave._

_Have to leave…_

The thoughts slip in during any unguarded moment, becoming more vicious the happier Frisk get. It feels as if the safety and comfort they’ve found will slip away at any moment; that they’ll ruin it or that Toriel will look at them and see what their mother saw all those years. They try to push the thoughts from their mind. They want nothing more than to stay here, happy, and so for another few days they manage to keep their pain and doubt suppressed.

Then one morning, or afternoon; they still have not figured out how to tell time down here, they lose whatever’s been keeping the dark thoughts trapped. They have a moment of weakness.

Toriel is sitting in her large chair by the fireplace as usual. She looks up with a smile, completely oblivious to Frisk’s inner turmoil. After all, they’ve spent 6 years of their life learning to hide their emotions. They feel momentarily guilty though, for using this same mask on Toriel that they did on their biological mother; they know Toriel would never get angry at them for being upset.

As they approach her, the thoughts grow louder, more insistent.

_Doesn’t want you._

_Don’t deserve her._

_Don’t belong here._

_Need to leave._

Toriel holds out her hand to pull them up, but Frisk holds back. They shake their head and Toriel looks confused for a moment before smiling patiently and moving to stand. Frisk shakes their head again.

They open their mouth, struggling to form the words they need.

“Ex-exit?” they regret it the moment it’s past their lips. They watch Toriel’s face fall, eyes going cold.

She stands and forces a smile. Frisk flinches.

“Pardon me, my child. There is something I must take care of,” her tone is oddly flat and it sends a chill through Frisk. They can feel panic rising in their chest as Toriel brushes past them and disappears into the next room. They can hear the tapping of claws on stairs.

There’s a lump in Frisk’s throat, and their heart is beating too fast. They can’t get in a good breath, and they try to pull at the collar of their sweater hoping to somehow let in more air, but their hands are shaking too badly and their fingers are numb, so they just stand there clawing at their chest until it starts to hurt.

_Ruined. Ruined it._

With just one word everything good that they have built here vanishes in front of their eyes. They know, deep down, that they can’t go back from this.

They stumble into the entry way, black dots dancing in their vision. They don’t want to follow Toriel down those ominous stairs, they want to go and lay down and pretend they never messed everything up.

They don’t have the courage or the strength to go after her, so they make it to their bedroom and collapse on their mattress, shaking. They close their eyes, hoping desperately that when they wake up Toriel will be in her chair again and everything will be fine.

They drift off into a fitful sleep.

_Toy dagger aimed at Toriel, their face pulled into an unnatural smile._

_Cutting through her like she’s made of water, betrayal and fear on her normally kind face, “Do you really hate me that much?”_

_W a k e  u p… C h a r a  y o u  h a v e  t o  w a k e  u p…_

The unfamiliar voice shakes them from their sleep. It sounded as if it was right there, by their bed, but when they look around the room is empty. They’re not sure how long they were asleep, but they feel completely exhausted and sort of numb inside.

They stagger to their feet and try to tell themselves that what happened with Toriel was part of the nightmare they just awoke from.

**_Frisk, we have to go._ **

_No…_

**_It’ll be okay._ **

There are tears streaming down their cheeks as they step out into the hall and make their way down the stairs. Their legs feel like they’ll give out at any moment, but they make it to the bottom where a dimly lit hall stretches out before them.

They can feel Chara’s presence there, supporting them, and they are infinitely grateful.

They walk slowly, not wanting to face what’s coming, but eventually they see Toriel standing in the center of the hall. She doesn’t even look at them.

“You wish to leave here, do you not?”

Frisk wants desperately to tell her how much they want to stay, but as always their voice refuses to work. Besides, they know Toriel’s not even really asking them. She is staring down the hall, and Frisk can see just the slightest shake in her shoulders.

“Down this hall is the exit to the ruins,” her voice hardens, “and I am going to destroy it. No one will ever be able to leave here again,” she takes a step forward, “Now be a good child and go upstairs.” Then she disappears further down the hall at a pace Frisk has no chance of matching.

For a moment they stand there, part of them pulling backwards towards the stairs. They imagine going back up and waiting in their room until the exit is destroyed and Toriel returns. They imagine her looking at them with hurt and disappointment. They imagine all the affection and kindness disappearing as Toriel resents them for wanting to leave.

A part of them knows that would never happen, that Toriel would never do that, but that part is small and quiet. Their heart feels heavy in their chest as they drag themselves away from the staircase and further into the ruins.

Eventually they catch up with Toriel again, where she has once again stopped.

Her voice is weighted with sadness, “It is always the same; a human falls and they stay with me, but then they leave and they… They die.”

Frisk freezes, fear spiking in their chest.

**_It’s okay Frisk, just stay determined._ **

Toriel is almost pleading now, “My dear, naïve child, if you leave here they, _Asgore_ ,” the anger at that name shocks them, “will kill you. Please… Just go to your room.”

This time they do not hesitate to follow after Toriel. She stops briefly at a bend in the corridor, still refusing to look at them, “Child, this is for your own good. Do not try to stop me. This is your final warning.”

Frisk’s heart hammers in their chest, and yet they are oddly steady on their feet. They have made their decision.

Finally they reach the end where Toriel stands facing a large door.

The hurt in her voice is like a knife in Frisk’s heart, “You really want to leave so badly?” the disappointment is even worse, “You are just like all the others. Very well, there is only one solution; prove to me that you are strong enough to survive,” they can hear the weight of resignation in Toriel’s tone, “If you can prove that, then I will let you leave here.”

The room around them darkens and their breath catches in their throat when they realize what’s happening. Their soul glows brightly in front of them and Toriel turns to face them, barely concealed grief written across her face.

They have a sudden flash of the dream that’s been haunting them every night. All of this… Is familiar. But unlike in the dream, they don’t want to hurt Toriel, instead they hold their hands in front of themselves, protectively.

_She’s too strong._

**_Just… Don’t fight her, okay?_ **

_Yeah. Don’t wanna._

Toriel waits for them to attack, but Frisk just shakes their head. She frowns down at them and then summons fire from all directions.

It’s the same fire that Toriel used to cook all their food, the same fire that kept the fireplace crackling and warm. And now it is turned on them.

Frisk is quick on their feet, and so they manage to dodge the brunt of the attack, but their clothes are singed and they can feel their arm starting to blister. Their soul flickers for a moment.

Again, as Toriel waits, they shake their head. They open their mouth to say something, but they can’t think of anything that would help.

This goes on, back and forth, for a while; Toriel raining fire and Frisk, more battered each time, refusing to fight.

Eventually she speaks. Her voice sounds raw.

“What are you doing?”

Frisk stands their ground.

“Attack or run away!”

Frisk shakes their head.

“You are proving nothing.”

Frisk smiles.

Toriel averts her eyes, “Stop looking at me that way…”

Frisk is slower now, too hurt to dodge as effectively, and this attack leaves them very weak. Their soul is dim and flickering and they can barely stay on their feet.

They can see tears in Toriel’s eyes as they once again refuse to fight back.

This time as the flames fly towards them, they all miss by miles. Frisk is confused at first, but then, during Toriel’s next attack, when every projectile avoids them they understand.

They smile up at her and take a step closer.

She looks back at them, her face drawn in sadness, “I know you want to go home,” they don’t, they don’t want to go home, “but please go upstairs.”

Frisk takes another step towards her.

“I promise I will take good care of you here,” her smile is sad, “We could have a good life here, child. I will be a mother to you.”

Frisk isn’t sure why they’re still pushing forwards, but they can feel an urgency from Chara.

**_We have to save her… We have to save everyone._ **

They don’t understand, but they listen none the less, taking another step towards Toriel.

“Why…?”

They take a deep breath and press forwards. For a moment they think Toriel will start crying, her face contorting in sorrow, but then she smiles at them again, bitterly.

“I truly am pathetic. I cannot save even one child… But… I understand. You would be unhappy trapped down here with no one but myself for company.”

The words are like a punch in the gut. They want to argue, to tell her how they had never been happier than this last week with her, but instead they take another step forwards.

“It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this because of my expectations… my loneliness… my fear…” she seems to steady herself, “For you, my child, I will put all of that aside. I will let you leave.”

The room fades back in around them and their soul once again vanishes from view, though they can still feel how damaged it is.

Toriel is hanging her head, “Please, do me a favor? If you leave… Do not come back. I- I hope you understand.”

Frisk nods, though they’re not sure if Toriel sees it, then they throw their arms around her, hugging as tight as they possibly can. Toriel seems surprised for a moment, but then she kneels and holds them close.

**_I don’t want to let go…_ **

_I don’t want to let go…_

But they do.

Toriel stands, smiles sadly and then steps out of the way. She walks around them, glancing back one last time, before disappearing back into the ruins.

“Goodbye… Mom…”

Their cheeks are damp with tears as they press their weight into the giant doors. Besides the creaking of hinges the hall is eerily silent around them. They continue onward, hugging themselves for comfort, until the reach a large open space. In the center is a flower…

They freeze.

“Hehe… Clever. Very clever. You think you’re so smart, don’t you, you little brat? Sparing your dear _mommy_ … But in this world it’s kill or be killed. Look at you, you smug idiot, you think you’ve got it all figured out, playing by your own rules; not killing anybody… But what will you do when you meet a relentless killer? You’ll just keep dying, trying to be a good little idiot, well, until you tire of trying. And then? Will you kill? W i l l  y o u  p r o v e  m e  r i g h t? Or will you give up completely and return the control of this pathetic little world to me?” Flowey giggles, chilling Frisk to their core, “But don’t worry, I have no plans to kill you. After all, this is so much more interesting!” its face morphs into a distorted grin, and then it disappears beneath the earth as though it had never even been there.

Frisk shudders, but then continues, avoiding the spot where Flowey had been. They pass through one, final door, and it slams shut behind them, cutting them off from the ruins and leaving them to face a stretch of dark forest.

The reality of what has just happened hits them all at once; there’s no going back, Toriel and the ruins are behind them and there is nothing before them but unfamiliarity and monsters that want them dead.

They collapse on the ground, weeping.

After a few moments they notice cold biting at their hands, snapping them out of their mourning. They look down to see soft powder piled underneath them.

_Snow?_

They drag themselves to their feet and wipe their face with their now cold hands. They’re suddenly freezing in their oversized but thin sweater.

Despite their efforts, tears continue to stream as they trudge forwards through the snow. The forest that they’ve found themselves in is dark and foreboding and they have the distinct feeling of being watched. As they struggle onwards, almost tripping over a giant branch, they become aware of another set of footsteps echoing behind them. They start walking faster, but freeze when a huge ‘crack’ echoes around them. They dare to look back only to find no one behind them, and the huge log snapped into a hundred pieces as though it was nothing.

It feels as though their heart is in their throat.

They make it to a small bridge when a voice speaks from behind them, “Human. Turn around. Don’t you know how to greet a new friend?” there’s something deeply unsettling about the tone, but Frisk figures that they don’t have much choice. So they slowly turn and, seeing a hand outstretched from the corner of their eye, hold out their own to shake. After all, that is the polite thing to do.

As soon as they have a hold on the other person’s hand, a loud noise sounds, startling them. It sounds… like a fart? They stand there, stunned.

“Huhu... Whoopee cushion in the hand trick. Classic.”

Frisk looks up to see a skeletal face grinning at them. Though he looks cheerful they still feel as though something is off about the skeleton before them, something dangerous glinting in his hollow eyes. But when he sees their face, tears still streaking their cheeks and glazing their eyes, his expression changes. His grin remains, but his face somehow… moves… and he looks worried.

“Hey, kid, you okay? Is this offensive to humans or something? Usually this is where people laugh…”

Frisk hadn’t realized how scared they had been after leaving the ruins, how afraid they were of fighting, of dying. Now though, with this skeleton standing in front of them looking awkward and concerned, the relief is overwhelming; the relief at not being attacked, and the relief at not being _alone_.

Frisk sobs, and throws their arms around the skeleton’s round middle. It’s like the flood gates have opened and now they can’t stop crying, clinging to this complete stranger’s coat for dear life.

“Uhhh…” he stands there frozen for a moment before he carefully wraps his bony arms around them. His hug isn’t like Toriel’s, but it feels safe and Frisk is just glad to be held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter seeing as I'm going to be visiting family for the next 10 days or so (ugh...) but I'll try to update soon! Feedback is really appreciated as always!


	12. Sans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEARS! So here's my present to you guys! ...this really short chapter...  
> Also, as I'm sure you'll notice, it's in the perspective of everyone's favorite smol chub skeleton :) I'm gonna start throwing in some short chapters like this in Sans' perspective because I think he's a really interesting character and he's fun to write. (But let me know if you think it's out of place)  
> I'll try to update soon with a longer chapter which will be back in Frisk's perspective!

Sans sits at his sentry station by the ruins, slipping in and out of consciousness. He hasn’t been sleeping well lately, and so now he finds himself passing out anywhere at any time. He’s been having nightmares, and on top of that, he’s been finding new notes in his lab talking about something that sends shivers down his spine. Talking about a human.

Humans, all of them children, have fallen down to the Underground before, and he’s always tried to protect them. He’s never succeeded. He really isn’t sure he can deal with watching another harmless kid die, but he made a promise, and promises to people with good taste in puns can’t be easily forgotten.

At least that’s what he tells himself.

It’s easier than admitting that he still somehow cares.

The notes in his journals leave little to go on besides a date and a roughly laid out time, so all he knows is that a human is coming and that he’s got to be the first to meet them. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when they finally show up.

Sans leans back and looks around at the frozen outskirts of Snowdin, thinking.

_Gonna have to find a way to **break the ice**._

He chuckles to himself.

Absentmindedly he rifles through the pocket in space and time where he keeps any important items he owns; his journals, devices for detecting anomalies in the timeline, whoopee-cushions…

_Heh. Perfect._

He pulls out a whoopee-cushion and sticks it in his coat, getting it ready for later. He lets the tear in space seal itself and then puts his feet up on his station desk, grabbing a bottle of ketchup from one of the shelves.

He takes a swig and hums to himself. He’s trying to stay alert; wanting to be ready for the human. He’s not sure how long it’ll be and he feels like he’s been waiting for forever already, but he trusts his memory too much to wonder if he’s gotten the date wrong. Despite his efforts, he starts to drift off after a few minutes. The ketchup bottle slips from his fingers and falls to the ground, creating a red stain in the snow.

Mercifully, he doesn’t dream.

After a while he wakes to a loud grinding sound. It’s oddly familiar, though he knows he’s never heard before. He sits up, fully alert; the ruins have opened. He stands slowly, trying to convince himself that he’s not anxious, though he’s so full of nervous energy that it feels as if his bones are buzzing. He wonders how he should proceed. He considers just walking to the entrance and introducing himself to the human, but he decides that it might be best to observe them first. So he turns away from the ruins and walks off towards Snowdin instead.

And then he’s standing by the once again closed door, watching a small form stumble in the snow. He takes no time to adjust; completely used to the strangeness of his jumps by now and knowing the Underground too well to get disoriented.

Sans follows cautiously behind the kid, watching them closely.

The first thing he notices is that the human before him is _familiar_.

_Shit._

It feels as though a dream is surfacing; flashes of vivid scenes playing through his mind.

**_Dusty hands gripping a toy knife. Piles of grey mixing with the white of snow. A smile that betrays no emotion. Eyes that glitter red. Empty paths stretching all the way to Snowdin. His brother facing the human. His brother refusing to fight. His brother holding out his arms. His brother-_ **

_Papyrus..._

Sudden hurt and rage wells inside him and his left eye flares blue. A large branch laying in the path shatters under the weight of his power.

As the wood snaps, so does his strange trance. His anger dissipates.

He ducks out of reality for a moment as the kid spins around, knowing that now would be a bad time for them to see him, and then he continues to follow. He definitely didn’t expect all that just from looking at the human, but he knows enough about timelines and SAVEs to just dismiss it as his imagination. After all, he’s experienced the same thing plenty of times before with that _flower_.

He doesn’t make a move to hurt the kid, but he’s on edge now; wary.

This kid has been resetting.

Honestly he should’ve known considering the notes from himself, but he had thought that maybe the flower had just reset again sometime after the kid had fallen down. He hadn’t even left himself any notes about a _human_ with the ability to reset and that’s a pretty big thing to omit.

_Goddamnit._

Still, he has a promise to keep. Besides, he finds it hard to think of the kid as a threat with their tiny, shaking shoulders. Even with the stick gripped in their small hands they look more frightened than menacing. He just hopes he’s right.

The human reaches the bridge and then pauses as if sensing Sans’ presence. He approaches them leisurely, whoopee-cushion already in his hand. The sound of his footsteps echo through the trees and he realizes that it must be scaring the kid. Part of him feels satisfied knowing that.

He stops directly behind them. Their shoulders tense.

“Human. Turn around. Don’t you know how to greet a new friend?”

He puts an edge to his words. Just in case this human is a threat, he wants them to know that he is too.

They turn and hesitantly grab his hand with their decidedly dust free one. He takes just a moment to notice that, before a loud, rubbery noise reverberates through the forest.

Even with his mood, the trick still makes him laugh, “Huhu... Whoopee cushion in the hand trick. Classic.”

He waits for a reaction from the kid. He loves this trick, and so it’s disappointing when the human doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead…

_Aw geez._

All of his anger dissipates when he sees the kid’s face. “Hey, kid, you okay? Is this offensive to humans or something? Usually this is where people laugh…”

He isn’t sure he’s going to be able to deal if this kid starts crying.

The kid starts crying.

_Damnit._

And then, even worse than that, they throw their arms around him.

He really wasn’t prepared for this.

“Uhhh…”

He knows he should pull away; he saw those flashes of another timeline, he knows what this kid is capable of…

But, as the kid holds on with a desperation that surprises him, a warmth starts to build in his chest. He lets out a breath and then wraps his arms around the kid. It’s a little awkward, he’s not used to hugging anyone other than Papyrus after all, but he feels the kid relax just a bit.

Their crying slows, but their grip doesn’t loosen and Sans lets out a little sigh. This human clutching onto him is so completely opposite the one he saw in his nightmare, and he can already feel the other reality fading to the back of his mind as he holds them to his chest.

The kid’s not sobbing anymore, but he can still feel fresh tears dampening his shirt. The kid doesn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon, so he takes a moment to look the human over. He takes in the kid’s unkempt hair. He takes in the bruises and scrapes that cover any exposed skin. He takes in their oversized and ratty sweater.

Sans sucks in a breath.

These things paired with the fact that there’s only one way to end up down here… Well, it doesn’t take a genius.

He tightens his hold on the kid. Something in him suddenly, fiercely wants to protect them. It's been a long time since he's felt something this strongly...

_Well shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, let me know if this disrupts the flow of the fic. If it does I'll delete it and I won't put up any more Sans perspective chapters. I just really like Sans and I am trash, so this chapter just sorta happened... whoops...


	13. NYEH HEH HEH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but for some reason this chapter was hard to write. (So I also apologize if it's kind of terrible...) I know it's not super long, but I promise I will update again soon; I already know what's going to happen in the next chapter and I've started working on it. But hey, for now you can enjoy Papyrus!

Eventually Frisk calms down enough to pull away from the skeleton’s now extremely damp shirt. They’re afraid for a moment that he’ll be upset with them, but he just pulls the soggy fabric out a bit, inspects it for a second, then chuckles.

His tone is joking and light, but his eyes watch them closely, “Welp, this shirt was pretty **tear-** rible already. But eh… **water** we gonna do about it? Guess I could always **cry** a new one?”

Frisk stands there, stunned for a moment.

**_Did he just…?_ **

Then they burst into giggles.

The skeleton’s eyes widen a bit in surprise, and then his grin splits his face even further.

Eventually they stop laughing and wipe at their eyes with their sleeve. The skeleton’s just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and patient.

“Huhu, good to know you’ve got a sense of humor after all. I was a little worried when ya didn’t laugh at the whoopee-cushion gag… So anyway, you’re a human, huh?”

All amusement dies and they freeze. They’re unsure of how to respond and they’re scared that if they agree he’ll suddenly attack them.

He doesn’t seem to need an answer though, “Heh… That’s hilarious.”

They’re not sure why it’s so funny, but they’re just glad that his demeanor doesn’t seem to change.

He leans down a bit so that he’s at eye level with them. Despite his strange skeletal grin, his expression actually looks warm, “What’s your name, kiddo?”

They fidget, unable to respond. They try to build the word in their mouth, but they don’t have the energy.

The skeleton waits for a moment before patting their head, “Hmm… Not a talker? Eh, don’t worry about it kiddo. Well… I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton.”

They can feel Chara pause.

**_No. NO._ **

They’re glad to hear Chara again, though they’re slightly confused by Chara’s reaction.

_W-what?_

**_His name is Sans… And he makes jokes… He’s frickin Comic Sans! Goddamnit…_ **

Frisk starts laughing again and this time Sans looks confused and almost a little bit suspicious. They wish they could explain, but even if there was a way there’s no guarantee he’d understand. So instead they take deep breaths and manage to calm themselves. They can still feel Chara freaking out, and it’s kind of hilarious. Mostly because they can tell that Chara is actually incredibly happy about the pun that is this skeleton.

_He’s a skele-pun…_

They hear Chara scream.

Frisk grins, but manages to suppress their giggle this time; no need to freak Sans out with more unprompted laughter.

He looks at them for a moment with an inquisitive expression, then shrugs and closes his eyes.

“Alright kiddo, we can’t keep hanging around here, we’re both gonna get chilled to the bone,” he cracks one eye open to watch their reaction. Frisk snickers.

Sans’ grin widens.

After a moment though, his expression gets more serious, though the smile doesn’t falter, and he rubs the back of his head. “I gotta warn ya, buddy… We’ll probably run into my brother up ahead. I would just take you on a short cut but, well, seeing you would really make his day. Ya see, he uh… He really wants to capture a human…”

Frisk stiffens and their grip on the stick tightens.

“Hey, buddy, don’t worry; I’m not gonna make you do anything ya don’t want to. But seriously, Pap’s harmless. He’s a real cool guy. He wouldn’t even hurt a whimsun. Besides, I won’t let anything happen to ya, kiddo.”

Frisk examines the skeleton’s face, trying to figure out whether or not they should trust him. His expression is hard to read, but he seems to be telling the truth. They want him to be telling the truth.

Frisk nods, slowly. Sans looks incredibly relieved.

“Thanks kiddo. You’re gonna make his day.”

Frisk smiles up at Sans nervously. They fidget, but don’t move from their spot.

“Uh… Kiddo?”

They glance over their shoulder at the bridge, stomach dropping. They wish they could speak.

Then, after a moment, they hesitantly reach out, slightly worried about how he’ll react, and grab one of Sans’ hands. He looks surprised, and then slightly amused, but his hand closes around theirs. It’s surprisingly warmer and softer than they’d expect of bone.

He squeezes their hand gently, “It’s okay, kiddo, I promise. Now let’s get goin.”

Frisk holds themselves close to Sans’ side as the two of them pass over the small bridge. Sans chuckles lightly, but doesn’t protest.

Past the bridge, the forest ends and they stand in a small clearing with an oddly shaped lamp with no visible plug, and what looks like a sentry station. They can see a bottle laying on the floor next to it with red liquid spilling out. It looks like…

_Ketchup…?_

They can practically hear Chara’s baffled shrug.

Sans stops for a moment and tilts his head slightly, as if he’s hearing something or waiting for something. Frisk looks around, unsure of what the skeleton could be reacting to.

They look up at Sans and see his expression grow suddenly warmer; fonder.

They’re about to tug on his arm to try and get his attention when a voice booms from across the clearing, “SANS!”

They quickly turn their head in surprise, breath catching in their throat. Just past the sentry station is another, much taller, skeleton. He’s wearing some kind of odd armor and cape.

“SANS YOU LAZY BONES, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? YOU WERE NOT AT YOUR STATION AND I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, COULD NOT FIND YOU ON YOUR PATROL! HAVE YOU BEEN LOAFING ABOUT AGAIN?! YOU’LL NEVER BECOME A ROYAL GUARD IF YOU- IF YOU…” the skeleton trails off and his gaze focuses on Frisk. His voice lowers to what they assume is supposed to be a whisper, “OH MY GOD SANS… IS THAT- IS THAT A _HUMAN_?!”

Frisk’s nerves jump and they absentmindedly squeeze Sans’ hand tighter. He squeezes back and takes a moment to give them a reassuring smile.

“Huhu yep. That’s a human. Good job spotting that, bro. I guess _human_ aged to find one.”

The taller skeleton makes a noise of irritation, but Frisk can see that he’s smiling and there’s a certain fondness in his eye sockets.

“OH MY GOD SANS. STOP! THOUGH… I GUESS I CAN LET THAT ONE SLIDE CONSIDERING YOU ACTUALLY DID YOUR JOB FOR ONCE. YES… UM… EXCELLENT WORK!” he looks slightly confused, but then his face brightens, “I AM VERY PROUD OF YOU, BROTHER. I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU!”

Sans’ expression doesn’t really change, but to Frisk it almost seems as though he’s glowing.

**_Huh. Guess his brother’s praise means a lot to him. I… I can relate…_ **

Frisk wants to ask what they mean, but they’re still not willing to pry into Chara’s past.

There’s not much time to dwell on it though, because Papyrus carries on again, enthusiastically, “WOWIE! WHAT AN EXCITING DAY! WAIT… OH DEAR! I AM UNPREPARED! MY PUZZLES NEED TO BE RECALIBRATED! SANS, KEEP THE HUMAN CONTAINED WHILE I PREPARE MY INCREDIBLY CHALLENGING PUZZLES FOR THEM TO GET UTTERLY STUMPED BY! NYE HEH HEH HEH!!”

And then he’s gone in a whirlwind of snow and excitement.

Frisk is… overwhelmed, but they no longer feel so anxious. The taller skeleton hadn’t attacked them after all.

The mention of puzzles confuses them, but they’re glad that Sans’ brother seems more excited to have them solve puzzles than to lock them away or kill them. They weren’t sure what they were expecting when Sans mentioned his brother, but this excited puppy of a skeleton was definitely not it.

They’re still a little apprehensive; unsure what lays in store for them or what kind of puzzles are being “recalibrated.” They look up at Sans, who is still staring after his brother with an amused and affectionate expression.

He glances down at them, “Thanks kiddo, I haven’t seen Papyrus this excited in a long time.”

Sans starts walking forward and they cling to his side. As they approach the exit to the clearing Sans pauses, “Hey, buddy, uh… Do you like spaghetti?”

The question confuses Frisk, but they think about it for a second and then nod.

Sans’ expression brightens, “Ya know, I think you and Pap are gonna get along great,” that confuses Frisk even more, but they don’t question him; the idea of befriending the hyper skeleton actually sounds really nice… “Like I said, he couldn’t really hurt anyone, and he always gets so excited about making new friends. I can help you out with the puzzles if you-”

Frisk cuts him off with a shake of their head. They gesture, trying to show they want to solve them themselves. Sans looks stunned for a moment and then chuckles.

“Huhu, alright kiddo. The puzzles are all yours.”

Sans is about to start walking again when he seems to reconsider. He glances forward uncertainly, and when he looks back at them his smile is strained, “Hey pal… I uh… I got some things I need to take care of. Can you handle continuing on your own for a bit? I’ll check in with you occasionally, but you seem like you can handle yourself, right kiddo?”

Frisk’s stomach drops, but they don’t want to keep Sans from anything important. They’ve already imposed on him after all. They nod slowly, swallowing a lump in their throat, and let go of his hand. He ruffles their hair and then he’s gone, as though he was never even there to begin with. Frisk feels suddenly much colder.

**_You’re not alone, Frisk._ **

Chara’s presence fills them with determination and they step out of the clearing with as much confidence as they can muster.

They continue on through the snowy landscape, both anxious and excited to run into Papyrus again. They believe Sans that his brother won’t harm them, and they kind of miss having another person around. They’re grateful for Chara’s presence, but a quiet feeling in their mind doesn’t go very far towards filling the silence.

As they walk, they absentmindedly play with the phone in their pocket. They think about taking it out, calling Toriel, but they remember her last words to them and think better of it. She probably wouldn’t pick up anyways.

They’ve walked a little ways and are about to step into another clearing when they feel a presence behind them. They turn slightly to see Sans standing with his hands in his jacket pockets. They’re surprised at the intense relief they feel at seeing him again. His same smile is still there, but his expression is unreadable.

They’re starting to wonder if his smile is permanent, or if he keeps it there on purpose…

**_Creepy…_ **

_You can’t talk! Strange presence in my head? Definitely creepier…_ They don’t really mean it.

 ** _Pshhh… Rude._** Chara makes their tone overly offended, but Frisk can hear the smile in their words.

Sans steps up to Frisk’s side, “Hey kiddo, just checking in. Papyrus is in the next room, so I thought I’d come with.”

He winks and then walks around them and into the next area. They quickly follow after, their heart beating just a bit too fast and their hands bunched in their giant sleeves.

In the clearing Papyrus stands with his hands on his hips and a huge, delighted grin on his face. Though Frisk can see nothing out of the ordinary in the room they’re wary, wondering where the puzzle is. They don’t have to wonder for long though.

“BEHOLD MY INCREDIBLE INVISIBLE ELECTRICITY MAZE! THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN SOLVE THIS ONE! I THINK YOU SHALL FIND IT VERY _SHOCKINGLY_ DIFFICULT. NYE HEH HEH HEH!!” he looks very proud of his pun. Sans also looks very proud of Papyrus’ pun. Chara sighs exaggeratedly, but Frisk can tell that they, too, are proud of Papyrus’ pun.

“IF YOU TOUCH THE WALLS OF THE MAZE, YOU WILL BE ZAPPED FEROCIOUSLY! NOW, PREPARE TO BE UTTERLY DUMBFOUNDED! NYE HEH HEH!”

They hesitate, but Sans gives them a little nod and they step forward. Almost immediately, bolts of electricity shoot out and hit Papyrus. They’re worried for a moment, but Sans is chuckling and Papyrus looks more startled and confused than hurt.

“WHAT?! WHY DID THAT NOT WORK? IT IS THE HUMAN THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THOROUGHLY THWARTED BY MY PUZZLE! CERTAINTLY NOT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“Uh… Pap? I think the human has to be holding the orb thing…” Sans gestures lazily to a small object in his brother’s hands.

Papyrus glances down at the ball and then up at the human. He looks almost… embarrassed for a moment. But then his expression quickly shifts to one of self-assurance, “NYE HEH! OF COURSE! HERE, HUMAN, LET ME BRING YOU THE ORB SO YOU CAN SUCCESSFULLY FAIL MY AMAZING PUZZLE!”

Papyrus walks towards them, carefully picking his way through the snow in what seems to be a deliberate pattern. After a moment he stands in front of them, looking much bigger than he had from across the room. He’s surprisingly unintimidating though; his expression is too kind.

He coughs and then awkwardly places the orb on the top of their head. He then carefully retraces his steps and turns to face them once he’s again reached the other side of the room.

“NYE HEH HEH! NOW YOU CAN ATTEMPT THIS PUZZLE AND BE PROPERLY STUMPED!”

He watches them excitedly, but also with what seems almost like… concern. Frisk looks down at the giant footprints in the snow and back up at the skeleton. They smile and then cautiously follow his steps across the snow.

Soon they’re standing in front of Papyrus, grinning up at him. He looks surprised and oddly relieved that they solved the puzzle so easily and unharmed.

“HUMAN. HOW DID YOU SOLVE MY INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT AND GENIUS PUZZLE?!” he doesn’t even pause to let them try to answer, “NO MATTER! YOU SHALL NOT SOLVE THE NEXT ONES SO EASILY! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

He grabs the ball off the top of their head and then he’s off. Frisk is once again left alone with Sans.

They find themselves hoping that he’s finished whatever important business he needed to take care of, and that he’ll accompany them again, but when they look up, he’s gone.

Disappointment and loneliness drop like stones in their stomach, but they square their shoulders and keep moving. Being alone isn’t going to stop them; they’ve been protecting and taking care of themselves their whole life after all.

_This is nothing new._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Okay, so please forgive me for this, but I'm gonna do a quick self-promotion... I started an ask blog for Asriel that is both voice acting and art based: http://askthelostprince.tumblr.com/ and it would be super awesome if you guys could come check it out)


	14. Welcome to Snowdin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm so sorry! I know I promised an update soon but I am terrible... I finally finished it though, so here you go! 
> 
> I also just wanted to say thank you all so much for your comments! They always make my day!! You guys are such sweethearts and you give me the motivation to keep writing this <3

As Frisk keeps moving they are repeatedly stopped short, monsters blocking their path just as they did in the ruins. Thankfully these ones seem no more invested in killing them than those they previously faced, and it doesn’t take much to convince the strange new creatures to stop fighting. Chara keeps urging them to fight or flee so that Frisk won’t get hurt, but Frisk is determined to make these monsters see them as more than an enemy. They’re able to dodge most of the attacks thrown at them anyways.

After all, they’re quite experienced at predicting where and when a blow will hit…

They had been scared when they were leaving the ruins, afraid that the monsters out here would be different from those they had faced before; that they would really want Frisk dead. But though the monsters are different physically, they really seem much the same. And, the more monsters they face, the more they start to see them as people. Some tell bad ice puns, others just want Frisk to look at their hats, but all of them _are people,_ with hopes and dreams like anyone else. It’s actually a huge relief to start noticing that, even if they’re still getting attacked.

Sometimes they aren’t quick enough in dodging and they get hurt as they try to figure out how to spare the monsters, but they don’t really mind. It’s always worth it and they always walk away relatively unharmed. They can feel Chara getting worried though.

**_Frisk… Please, be careful. I can’t protect you, you idiot._ **

Frisk smiles. _I’m fine, Chara, really._

**_Ugh… Just… At least eat something? Please?_ **

Frisk nods to themselves and pulls a piece of candy out of their pocket. They unwrap it and pop it into their mouth.

**_Huh… Doesn’t taste like licorice…_ **

Frisk thinks that’s an odd comment to make, but they’re more surprised by the fact that Chara can apparently taste what they taste than they are by the comment itself. Once again though, they don’t press Chara for more information.

They’re quickly distracted anyways, as they feel a surge of energy run through them. Looking down they notice cuts and bruises on their skin vanishing.

They let out a small gasp and look down at the candy wrapper, inspecting it as though it will somehow tell them its secrets.

They practically hear Chara roll their eyes.

**_It’s monster candy, Frisk. It’s made of magic._ **

_Oh… This is why you wanted me to keep it?_

**_Yeah, obviously._ **

Despite Chara’s condescending tone, Frisk feels warmth in their chest. It’s still sort of strange to have someone caring about them and trying to keep them safe. It feels nice.

_You really do Chara-bout me!_

Chara’s exasperated sigh echoes through their mind and Frisk giggles.

Chara seems to rebel against their pun by going silent, and so Frisk has nothing else to do but to keep going.

So they wind their way through the rooms of puzzles and enemies, trying to keep a positive outlook on their situation even as they start to get tired.

They run into Papyrus a few more times. (They always know when they’re about to see the enthusiastic skeleton again, because Sans will pop in and lead them into the next room, often with a bad pun thrown over his shoulder.) Each time is perhaps more ridiculous than the last, but Papyrus is really starting to grow on them. It’s becoming obvious that he doesn’t want them hurt. Anytime something seems as though it may be dangerous it either “mysteriously” stops working, he shuts it down, or he offers to help them solve it. Frisk never takes up the offer since they never really have any trouble solving his puzzles. Besides, they love the excited look on his face every time they complete one.

They can’t stop laughing when they run into his “trap” that is literally a plate of spaghetti frozen to a table. They briefly remember Sans’ question about their opinion on the dish and figure spaghetti must be important to Papyrus in some way. From the note stuck to the table, they gather that he’s rather confident about his cooking. Unfortunately (or fortunately) there isn’t any plausible way of actually eating it. But when Papyrus asks them if they finished it, they try to gesture in a way that shows they ate every last bite and loved it. Somehow he seems to get the message and his face immediately lights up.

His enthusiasm is contagious and soon they find themselves enjoying the pattern of moving through these rooms and solving these puzzles.

They can’t help but wonder though, what happens when the puzzles end…

They try not to think too much about it. Besides, at this point they trust that Papyrus isn’t going to hurt them and so they figure they shouldn’t worry.

Instead they focus on solving the puzzles and facing the other monsters without dying.

And there are some interesting monsters.

They’re particularly rather fond of, though quite surprised by, the dog monsters. They figure it makes sense though; if Toriel was a goat monster, why can’t there be other animal-like monsters?

They’d always wanted a dog but their mother had made sure that would never happen. They’re hesitant at first, but they pet all the dog monsters they come across.

Funnily enough, it seems to be the best way to spare them.

They spend, what Chara insists is hours but Frisk is sure can’t be more than 20 minutes, petting one of the dog monsters as its neck extends up towards the ceiling. Eventually they stop, once Chara starts telling them that they may have a problem.

The cold is starting to seep all the way into their bones when they finally reach a bridge with what looks like a town beyond it.

They start across it, hoping that there might be stores selling warm food and drink and possibly even some kind of coat to keep them from freezing. As they reach the end of the bridge, they notice the silhouettes of Sans and Papyrus. Frisk waves excitedly and picks up the pace but, when they’re just a few steps away, there’s a mechanical groan and objects start to lower from the ceiling. Their heartrate quickens when they see that the objects are all weapons. Very _sharp_ weapons. They notice axes and maces and what looks like… A dog?

They’re not sure what to do other than stand there, frozen. They thought Papyrus wouldn’t hurt them, but this seems like an actual threat.

When Papyrus speaks though, his normally confident voice wavers slightly “HUMAN! YOU HAVE SOLVED ALL OF MY PUZZLES AND EATEN ALL OF MY DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI BUT NOW I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL CAPTURE YOU! YOU SEE, THIS PUZZLE WILL SURELY STOP YOU AS IT IS, IN FACT, EXTREMELEY… DANGEROUS…” he trails off a bit at the end, eyes tightening in what looks like worry.

Sans seems unfazed.

Papyrus stands there with what appears to be some kind of device in his hand, his finger poised above a large button. They brace themselves, but he doesn’t move. His mouth is turned down at the corners.

“ANY MOMENT NOW I SHALL ACTIVATE IT! AND THEN YOU WILL BE CAPTURED!”

Still, he does not move.

Sans chuckles softly, “Bro… You gonna activate it or what?”

His words feel like a punch to the chest.

“YES. VERY SOON.” Papyrus’ finger still hovers over the button. He is obviously frowning now.

“Doesn’t look very activated to me, bro.”

“I AM JUST WAITING FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT! THEN I WILL ACTIVATE IT AND THE HUMAN WILL BE DEFEATED! NYEH…” it’s the saddest ‘nyeh’ Frisk has ever heard.

“What’s the hold up, bro?” Sans sounds amused. He makes eye contact with Frisk and winks.

They’re still scared, but they’re starting to feel a little more at ease.

“THERE IS NO HOLD UP! I AM ABOUT TO PRESS IT!” he lifts his finger and then stabs it towards the button, but once again it stops above it. His eye is twitching, “YES. I AM GOING TO PRESS IT RIGHT NOW!” he doesn’t press it.

Suddenly he tenses and spins around.

With a soft whirring, the weapons and the dog retract back into the ceiling, leaving the bridge entirely clear. They hear Papyrus let out a breath of relief.

“What’re ya doing, Pap?” from the tone of his voice it seems like he knows exactly what Papyrus is doing.

“THIS PUZZLE WAS NOT FAIR AT ALL AND WOULD HAVE DEFEATED THE HUMAN FAR TOO EASILY! I MUST KEEP EVERYTHING FAIR!  I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE STANDARDS!” he briefly glances back at Frisk with a worried expression and then stomps off through the snow.

Frisk hesitates and then slowly continues their trek across the bridge. They’re immensely relieved. Both at the fact that they did not have to face something so dangerous, and at the fact that Sans was true to his promise; Papyrus really didn’t want them hurt.

They reach the end of the bridge, cold and a little shaky from adrenaline, and smile timidly at Sans. He grins down at them, though the expression in his eyes is soft.

“Hey, what did I tell ya, kiddo? Paps aint gonna hurt ya.”

They nod almost imperceptibly. Sans gives them an awkward pat on the shoulder and then vanishes once again.

**_Load of help he is…_ **

Frisk just shrugs and keeps going.

A few more feet and they’re standing at the edge of a vibrant little town with a giant sign that’s covered in snow. They carefully brush it off until the words are legible. The sign says “Welcome to Snowdin.”

**_Seriously? Even the frickin town’s a pun?!_ **

Frisk giggles.

The town, Snowdin, seems lively. People are milling about and the smell of cooking food wafts around them from somewhere up ahead. Colorful lights decorate the buildings and, to their surprise, they can see what looks like a Christmas tree up ahead.

The building closest to them looks like some kind of shop and they rush hurriedly to the door, pushing their way in with a soft, welcoming “ding.” The inside is warm and Frisk can feel their fingers and ears start to burn as they regain feeling. They approach the counter where a rather large bunny-woman stands, stacking items onto shelves behind her.

Frisk isn’t sure how to get her attention, so they stand there awkwardly, still shivering, waiting for her to turn around. Eventually the woman finishes stacking and turns around, humming lightly. She jumps a little when she sees them, but then smiles warmly.

“Hi, sweetheart! What can I get for ya?” her face scrunches in concern when she sees them standing there shivering, “Oh! Look at you! You’re shakin! You must be so cold. Here, lemme get you some hot cocoa, okay sweetheart?” before Frisk can even respond, the monster has disappeared through a colorful curtain of beads, leaving Frisk alone in the cozy shop.

They’re not sure what to make of the woman’s kindness. This is all very confusing for Frisk. Though it was scary running into monsters out in the woods or in the ruins, where everything seems to want to attack them, it was what they expected, it was in line with what they’d been taught. But seeing these monsters as people with lives, people who are kind; that is somehow even more terrifying. They can feel everything they’ve ever been taught coming undone before their eyes.

_I always thought monsters were evil… That I… That I was evil…_

**_Frisk…_** Chara’s tone is surprisingly gentle. **_You’re not evil… If you were then I…_** They don’t continue their sentence, but Frisk can detect something in their voice. It sounds like self-loathing.

This time, Frisk actually considers prying further. They know the feeling of self-loathing well, and it hurts them that Chara clearly does too. They want to help, and they’re about to ask what Chara was going to say, but then the shopkeeper steps back through the curtain. She’s carrying a giant mug with steam rising from the top. Frisk can smell chocolate.

They feel Chara immediately perk up.

“Sorry that took so long, sweetheart. But here, this should help warm ya up.”

Frisk carefully reaches out and takes the large mug in their hands. The shopkeeper smiles warmly and gestures to a small bench against the wall. Frisk wanders over and plops down, careful not to spill any of the rich drink.

**_Chocolate…_** Frisk can practically see Chara drooling. Which is saying something, given that they have no idea what the kid looks like.

Frisk blows on it and then takes a long sip.

**_Holy crap that is good._ **

They make a soft, contented noise in agreement and settle back a bit on the bench.

They sit like that for a bit, occasionally sipping at the cocoa. There’s a warmth in their chest that is from more than just drinking something hot. They feel safe and comfortable, and it’s so much like being at Toriel’s house that it hurts.

**_Oh geez… Uh Frisk, are you okay?_** Chara sounds worried but sort of hesitant.

Frisk is confused for a moment before they realize that they’ve started crying. They reach up and wipe the tears off their cheeks and smile as they take another sip of the hot chocolate.

_Yeah. I’m good. I just… No one’s ever made me hot chocolate before._

Chara doesn’t respond, but Frisk feels something. It feels almost like a tentative hand on their shoulder.

Once Frisk finishes their drink, they hesitantly return to the counter, mug clutched in their hands. The shopkeeper looks up and smiles kindly.

“Finished, darling? Here, let me take that.” she gently pulls the mug from Frisk’s hands and then once again disappears behind the curtain.

Frisk takes the opportunity to look around at the shelves. It seems this place mostly sells food, but there are a few miscellaneous items including…

**_Is that a bandana? With_ abs _drawn on it??_**

Frisk squints at it for a moment and then shrugs.

Eventually the woman comes back through the curtain and leans her elbows on the counter.

Frisk tries desperately to thank her through gestures. They’re not sure how much the woman understands, but she smiles genuinely.

She pauses for a moment before continuing, “Well, welcome to my shop. I’m guessin that you came in here lookin to buy something?”

Frisk nods and then stands there, looking uncertain. The shopkeeper smiles patiently and then pulls out a sheet from behind the counter. On it, items are listed.

It seems they were right about this place mostly selling food. They’re a bit disappointed that there aren’t any coats or anything, considering how cold it is in Snowdin, but they stock up on a few adorable bunny shaped cinnamon rolls and actually end up buying the bandana.

As they place the items in their pockets and tie the ab decorated bandana around their neck, Chara speaks up, laughter already interrupting their words.

**_Hey. Hey Frisk. Enjoy those cinnamon_ buns _and your_ man _dana!_** They hear Chara crack up and they can’t help but giggle a bit themselves.

They’re smiling as they wave goodbye to the shopkeeper.

They brace themselves, and then push back out into the cold. The kindness of the woman and the cozy liveliness of the town fill them with determination. They press onwards.

As they make their way through the quaint town, they stop and watch as people go about their daily business. Many of the monsters take a moment to talk to Frisk, not seeming to mind their silence. They all seem a little strange, but in very endearing ways that leave Frisk smiling to themselves.

_Everyone’s so nice here!_

The words are accurate, but leave so many things unsaid. Things like “this isn’t like people on the surface,” or “this isn’t what monsters are supposed to be like.” But Frisk wouldn’t ever say those things.

**_Heh… Yeah… I was surprised too._ **

Again, they don’t elaborate and again Frisk doesn’t pry. It seems this is becoming a theme with them.

They’re surprised when they discover that the thing they saw earlier is indeed a Christmas tree, though the monster kneeling next to it refers to it as Gryftmas. Frisk briefly inspects the presents beneath it and their smile fades a bit around the edges.

They remember Christmas back on the surface. Even when things got bad, their mom was always sober on that day. And she always got them something. It seemed more out of ritual than actual love, but still, it was almost nice.

Frisk knows it’s wrong, but part of them misses that. Their heart aches for a moment, so intensely that they have to stop everything they’re doing. But then they take a few deep breaths and push the feeling down, moving onwards and further into Snowdin.

They pass by what looks like a restaurant, the smell of food wafting from it. Their stomach rumbles a tiny bit, but they spent all their money at the shop and so they force themselves to pass by.

_I’ll come back. When I have money…_

They think it to themselves, just a way of reassuring themselves that there is food here and that they can access it at any time.

Next they pass by what is a very ironically misspelt “Librarby,” and then a large, nice house with one extremely full and one extremely empty mailbox.

And then they’ve reached the edge of the town.

Frisk pauses for a moment, hesitant to keep going. They can still hear people chatting and music playing behind them, and part of them wants to go back and just stay in the town. Everyone seems so friendly and they just want to be safe. But they know they don’t belong here; they’re a different kind of monster, one that doesn’t deserve love or kindness.

They can feel Chara’s determination added to their own and so, with a shaky breath, they take that final steps away from the cozy town.

The path narrows a bit as they make their way away from Snowdin, the ground falling away on either side. Their heart starts hammering in their chest as fog rolls in. They’re terrified that at the slightest misstep they’ll plummet to their death.

But they keep walking, small fists clenched at their sides and head down.

They let out a tiny squeak and almost jump out of their skin when they look up and see a figure standing deep in the fog. The silhouette seems familiar…

_Papyrus?_

As they try to focus on the person before them, the fog finally begins to clear. It is indeed Papyrus.

He’s standing in one of his typical poses, chest puffed out and arms crossed, and though he’s smiling his expression looks strained and almost _sad_.

“HUMAN. I AM IMPRESSED THAT YOU WERE ABLE TO GET PAST ALL OF MY INCREDIBLY CHALLENGING PUZZLES! THEY WERE AFTER ALL, COMPLETELY GENIUS SINCE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MADE THEM!”

Though Papyrus’ tone is as enthusiastic as ever, Frisk can detect a hint of regret. They just smile at him, trying to look encouraging, but that only seems to make things worse. Papyrus’ expression melts into a frown and he quickly turns away.

As he turns, Frisk swears they see a tear in the corner of one of his eyes.

“HUMAN I… I KNOW HOW HARD IT MUST BE TO RESIST MY CHARMS. YOU SIMPLY COULDN’T HELP BUT LIKE ME! AFTER ALL I, LIKE YOU, LOVE PUZZLES AND SPAGHETTI. FINDING A PERSON WHO SHARES THOSE INTERESTS MUST BE SO EXCITING. I CAN’T IMAGINE HOW THAT FEELS… AT ALL…” he coughs a bit, and though they know he can’t see it, they smile fondly. “I KNOW YOU MUST DESPERATELY WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS! AND I… I WANT TO BE FR- NO… NO I CAN’T…”

Frisk isn’t sure, but they think they can hear Papyrus sniffle a bit, and then he turns around to face them. His expression looks incredibly conflicted and Frisk can see a red glow starting to emanate from their chest. Suddenly Frisk can’t help but wonder where Sans is. Can’t help but wonder if he really was lying all along…

But then Papyrus drops his head, and the glow suddenly stops.

His voice is somewhat softer than usual, and it sounds like he’s holding tears back. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BELIEVE IN YOU, HUMAN. I HAVE SEEN HOW YOU SOLVED MY PUZZLES AND ATE MY SPAGHETTI AND I KNOW YOU ARE GOOD! SO IT WOULD BE WRONG TO HURT YOU.” and then his bravado is back in full force, “THEREFORE I SHALL CAPTURE YOU PEACEFULLY AND KEEP YOU SAFE HERE WITH SANS AND ME UNTIL THE KING CAN COME GET YOU!”

That doesn’t sound ideal, but Frisk doesn’t really care. They’re just so relieved that Papyrus isn’t going to hurt them.

He’s standing with his hands on his hips, staring off in the distance, like he just came up with the best idea in all of history, so he doesn’t see Frisk coming as they rush forward and throw their arms around him. He freezes for a second, shocked, but then wraps his bony arms around them in turn. He lets out a very soft “Nyeh heh heh.”

They’re not sure what’s going to happen when the King comes for them, though they feel it can’t be good, but they actually kind of like the idea of staying with Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus’ unwavering positivity helps them quiet those unwaveringly negative voices in their head. And Sans, well, they trust him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter isn't the best, I kinda had Frisk moving through a few different areas in this one and so it's a little all over the place.
> 
> Also, unrelated to this, I started an ask blog for Asriel a little bit ago and I'm having a lot of fun with it! I would love it if you would come check it out and ask questions :3
> 
> ( Here's a link to it that is also a sort of preview of what it's like http://askthelostprince.tumblr.com/post/138636229462/its-good-to-have-people-to-talk-to-again-my )


End file.
